


how to pick a plastic diary's lock

by pomdu



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Characters Reading Fanfiction, Characters Writing Fanfiction, Friends to Lovers, Humor, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Secret Crush
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2019-06-29 06:18:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15723696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pomdu/pseuds/pomdu
Summary: “This is the most ‘Liked’ work of the website.”“I don't want to look at it!” Lance proclaims dramatically, turning his back and walking to the other side of the room.Keith leans in to read the words.-In which fans of the Voltron Coalition write fanfiction about their favourite heroes. Somehow, Keith finds himself reading—and writing—them.





	1. stumble

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this fic as therapy after experiencing the mess that was season 7. this takes place in the lull between s3 and s4.
> 
> huge, HUGE shout out to the fic that inspired this: [Fanboy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9251936) by [urbangurl123](https://archiveofourown.org/users/urbangurl123/pseuds/urbangurl123).  
> if you’re in the miraculous ladybug fandom, please give it a read. it's amazing.

They’re all gathered on the floor of the lounge, watching stupid videos on Pidge’s laptop when Lance points out the one other tab open on her browser.

“It’s this story website,” she explains when Lance asks her about it.

Lance’s brows furrow. “A story website?”

“Where you can read, Lance,” Pidge says matter-of-factly. She looks annoyed, but there’s also an undercurrent of something else that Keith can’t quite place his finger on.

“What kinds of stories?” Hunk pipes up.

“Just stories.” Pidge looks too defensive. Something is up, and Lance seems to have caught on, an eyebrow raised.

“I don’t believe you. Hey, wait a tic…” Lance scrutinizes the little symbol of the tab. The video is still playing. A space soap, but everyone is focused on Lance’s next words. “But isn’t that… that weird website? Voltron Fiction?”

Pidge crosses her arms. “How would you even know that?”

“One of the aliens I met on our last mission mentioned it,” Lance explains. “She showed me her story about—nevermind. I haven’t read anything besides that, but, really Pidge? You read fanfiction about us?”

“I was just checking it out!”

“Wow. I can’t imagine—“

Keith interrupts. “Sorry, but what is fanfiction?”

Pidge adjusts her glasses. There is a faint blush on her cheeks. “They’re fictional stories that fans write. This website is specifically dedicated to us. We built up a pretty huge fanbase after recruiting for the Coalition, and somewhere in the mix, this website was created,” Pidge explains. “Most of them are actually pretty well written.”

“Ha! Which means you weren’t just ‘checking it out,’” Lance says triumphantly. 

Pidge rolls her eyes. “Fine, Lance. I do read them. But I read for the plot. Although a lot of them tend to focus on our… relationships.”

“Like friendships?” Keith clarifies.

“Mostly. But there’s also, um, romantic relationships.”

Keith screws up his face. “Ugh.”

“Of course, as I’ve said, I mostly read platonic fics and I only ever keep up with this one romance fic—“

“I don’t want to hear it,” Keith says. He doesn’t even want to think about what these relationships are.

“Okay,” Pidge says, shrugging. “But it’s actually really interesting to see how they portray us. They’re pretty spot on.”

“Which relationships?” Lance asks. Because, of course, Lance would be the one interested.

“I thought you didn’t care,” he tells Lance.

“Hey, I just want to know what they’re writing,” Lance says, shrugging.

“Like I said, they’re mostly friendships, nothing explicit. But in the relationship department, Hunk and Shay—“ Pidge tilts her head to Hunk, who perks up at the mention of his name “—you’re one of the top runners.”

“Aw. Glad to hear they’re supportive of us,” Hunk says, holding a hand to his heart.

Pidge nods. “It is pretty nice. Considering that you’ve also confirmed you’re together, a lot of people read your stuff. But you’re not number one. That actually goes to—uh, two members of the Voltron team present.”

Lance grins mischievously. “Let me guess—does it involve a certain sharpshooter and a beautiful princess?” Lance gives Allura the finger guns, who responds with a rude Altean gesture. Keith inwardly cheers her on.

“You got it half right.” Pidge stares at Lance. Her eyes are sparkling. Keith doesn’t like this one bit. “It’s you and Keith.”

The shriek that leaves Lance makes up for Keith’s stunned silence.

“WHAT?!”

Keith’s stomach does a double flip, and he feels nauseous as he looks at Lance, who seems like he’s grappling for any sane explanation why this is happening. Keith is wondering the same thing.

“You’re kidding right, Pidge?” Lance says, eyes wide. “You’re quiznaking kidding me? _Me_? And—and _Keith_? It’s just—he and I are—we’re rivals!” he finally splutters out.

Keith crosses his arms and glares. It’s the safest way to react. There’s a heat in his cheeks. Hunk and Allura are watching the drama unfold with blank faces.

Lance is still spluttering. “There’s no way—no way that he and I are—are—“

“You don’t believe me?” Pidge pauses the video, freezing it on an unflattering still of the alien actress’s face and clicks the tab. There is the Voltron symbol at the top, and the word ‘Fiction’ right beside it in sans serif font. A collection of links, with what Keith assumes are summaries, are separated by faint, grey lines against a white background. When he glimpses his name among the many words, his stomach does another turn, but there is also a nice flutter in his chest that catches him unawares.

Not that that tiny bit of flattery changes his mind about what they write about him and Lance. That seems too… personal.

Pidge is moving the mouse again, the clicks loud in the quiet room, then she stops, wearing that grin again. Oh no.

“This is the most ‘Liked’ work of the website.”

“I don't want to look at it!” Lance proclaims dramatically, turning his back and walking to the other side of the room.

Keith leans in to read the words.

  


In a Blue Moon by read_ingpaladinfan  
Tagged: Keith/Lance, Pining, Friendship, Friends to Lovers

Lance loved Keith. Keith didn’t, that much Lance was sure. But after an extremely dangerous mission, Keith kissed Lance, completely out of the blue.

And Lance wasn’t sure what to think of it. 

**READ Chapter 1: The Kiss >>**

  


Keith’s face is a tomato. A burning, ripe tomato. Pidge watches him with dancing eyes.

This must be a joke. 

“It’s not done yet, but it’s pretty good,” she says. Her lips are twitching. “They even got your emo attitude down pat.”

“Pidge,” Hunk warns.

“I’m just saying, Hunk.”

There’s something stuck in his throat. But Keith somehow gets his words out. “So—so people are—are thinking me and Lance are in a relationship now?”

“Are you?” Pidge asks, eyes still dancing.

“Of course not!” Lance shouts from across the room.

“You heard him,” Keith grunts. His face still feels warm. Quiznak.

“Then it only exists in their imaginations,” Pidge tells them. “You don’t have to worry about it. It’s just fans being fans.”

“It’s still weird!” Lance says, to which Keith agrees. Especially in the current circumstances.

“Yes, it is. But they’re not hurting anyone. Besides, it helps promote the Coalition. More aliens will want to be part of it. It’s like advertising, but the fans do it themselves.”

“But don’t you think it’s unethical?” asks Lance. “They’re reading and writing about us and might be getting our personalities wrong, our lives wrong—everything wrong!”

Pidge sighs. “That’s why it’s called fiction, Lance. If you want, you can check it out for yourself.

“No!” Lance declines in horror.

“Then, what does it matter?”

“It’s just—just—I don’t—“ Lance sighs. Then he hangs his head, the will to fight going out like a light. Despite Keith’s highlighted embarrassment, he feels a twinge of empathy for him.

“Look, Lance,” Keith says and everyone’s attentions turn to him. His face still feels warm, but it isn’t as bad as before. He can get through this: he is the team leader after all. “It’s not a huge deal. I know you’re upset, but like Pidge said, it’s just fans being fans. And don’t think for one second that I don’t know what you guys are doing,” he says to Allura, Hunk and Pidge, who are listening too keenly, “I know you want to know what I think about all of this. But the truth is, I really, _really_ don’t care. So can we just go back to what we were doing and watch the video?”

There’s a beat of silence. Lance shoots him a grateful look, which makes something flutter in Keith’s chest again. Then Lance all but slides back to their huddled spot on the floor, settling down abruptly next to Hunk. “You heard Mullet. Come on. I want to know what happens to Zalsra.” He nudges Pidge’s shoulder a bit too roughly. Pidge’s eyebrows raise. Kind of serves her right, though. “Press play.”

Keith releases a silent sigh of relief when Pidge obliges. He’s steeped in even more relief when the whole team once again becomes engrossed, after a few minutes of watching, in Zalsra’s one of many arguments with her mother. He’s thankful that they don’t notice his brain, running a mile a minute, or his hands, which he has to wipe on his pants every few seconds because it keeps getting drenched in cold sweat.

For although Keith is paying attention, reacting appropriately at the correct times, he can’t get the jumble of words out of his head. They keep repeating, like a computer spitting out infinite code. ’In a Blue Moon’. ‘Keith kissed Lance’. ‘Friends to Lovers.’ There’s every possible reiteration of them.

Keith lied. 

He cares. He cares very much that he and the boy he likes are sitting in a tree in almost every fan’s imaginations. 

Damn it.

  


  


“Hey!”

Keith keeps walking. They finished the episode amid tears—mostly from Hunk—and collectively decided to end it there and go to bed before it got too distressful. He’s the first one to get out of the room. It felt too stuffy in there.

“Hey, Keith!”

He turns. To find Lance. The one person he really doesn’t want to talk to.

“Yeah?”

“I—I just—“ Lance is fumbling. His gestures are wild: a nervous habit of his. “I just want to say sorry.”

Keith arches an eyebrow. “For what?”

“For the whole… fanfiction thing.”

“Uh, apology accepted?”

Lance looks like he’s about to launch into a spiel. But as much as he usually welcomes Lance’s conversations, Keith just really wants to go back to his room. “You know, it’s just the things I’ve said—you know, about us being rivals and stuff—“

“I know you didn’t mean it.”

“Still, Keith. I’m sorry if I offended you.”

“You didn’t.”

“Okay,” Lance says, nodding. “Just, if you are. Um, I’ll see you then. Team leader.” The last word seems to have sparked a confidence in Lance because he shoots Keith a wink and two finger guns, then jaunts off smoothly in the other direction.

Keith is grateful he didn’t see his red face.

  


  


It follows Keith all the way to the bedroom. He’s trying to sleep. He’s trying exceptionally hard, but whenever he closes his eyes, he keeps seeing the blue and black words superimposed against the white.  _In a Blue Moon_. He still remembers the username. The whole summary. The tags. It’s like it’s tattooed inside his eyelids. He rubs his eyes, so hard that he sees stars.

Nope. Still there.

He opens his eyes and sits up, pushing the blankets to the side. The metal floor is cool when his bare feet touch the ground. Before he can fathom it, he’s across the room and his hand snatches up the orange tablet sitting on the table.

He stills. This is wrong. It feels wrong. Reading about the supposed relationship between him and the guy he likes? It feels immoral. But that isn’t why he wants to read it. He isn’t reading because he wants to live some sick fantasy where he and Lance are together somehow.

He genuinely wants to know. He wants to know what the fans think of him. What they see when they’re saving the universe. If his leadership skills are reflected in the story. If they get his loner wolf attitude right. 

Maybe it is this curiosity that make his fingers type the words to the website—uuu.voltronfiction.cltn—bringing him back to the very page that he and the team were ogling hours before, eyes reading the same words he has etched in his brain. Pidge reads this right? Besides, this is about him. Who better to read it but by whoever it’s written about? 

He’ll read one chapter then he’ll call it quits. He just wants to check. And that will be it.

  


  


**In a Blue Moon by read_ingpaladinfan**

Chapter 1: The Kiss

Lance touched his lips.

It couldn’t be. What he just went through, it only occurred in his wildest dreams, in his daydreams. Whenever he looked at that mullet, he could only remember his violet-grey eyes looking at him with disinterest. His mouth in a frown. Keith never liked him in that way.

So, what in the universe just happened then?

He imagined it. There was no other explanation, because no way Keith would have crowded him in the hangar when everyone had left, and pushed his lips against his. They made out for a solid five minutes, tongues battling with each other, and Lance’s mind was blank the whole time, only one thing on his mind: Keith, Keith, Keith.

But it couldn’t have been.

Because after that, Keith left without even saying a single word.

So the only thing it could have been was a hallucination. 

  


  


“Good morning,” says Hunk, looking up from halving what looked like an orange, but with green flesh. And gooier. 

“Hey,” Keith greets. He stifles a yawn. It’s his usual waking hour, but right now, he just wants to go back to sleep. 

“Stayed up late?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” Which is the truth while simultaneously being a lie. He could have slept earlier. But he didn’t. 

It’s his fault for reading that fanfic. 

Every chapter of it. 

“Yeah. I get like that too when’s something’s on my mind,” Hunk ruminates, as he cuts one half of the orange into perfect wedges. 

At that moment, Pidge strides in, her computer, as always, wedged between her arm and her side.

“Keith, are those bags under your eyes?” she greets.

“Shut up.”

“Hey,” Hunk warns Pidge, “buddy’s had a rough night.”

Pidge puts her laptop on the table and pushes herself onto the chair, feet dangling as she asks, facing towards him, “Reading too much fanfiction?”

Jolt of adrenaline. His face must have reacted too violently because Pidge is grinning in that mischievous way of hers when she’s caught him in something he shouldn’t be in. “No,” he says flatly. 

“I hear the author is going to post the new chapter today.”

In a burst of excitement, he opens his mouth, but catches himself in the nick of time before he can say anything stupid. “Why the hell would I care?” he says instead. Keith hopes his expression of disinterest and grumpiness is holding up.

“Come on, Keith. That last chapter though? I can’t believe Lance would think of himself like that.”

It’s infuriating that he knows exactly what Pidge is talking about and he can do nothing but stare at his alien coffee—blue, and five times stronger—with a scowl. He wants to talk about the story. Badly, in fact. He has a lot of opinions about it. Particularly, Lance’s depiction. And his own.

“It’s pretty sad.”

Before Keith can answer, the sliding doors open. “Hey guys,” Lance says when he emerges, yawning as he makes his way to the table. He sits himself beside Keith. “What’s sad?”

“Nothing,” replies Keith hastily before Pidge can interject. Pidge is smirking. 

“I sure hope it’s nothing. Or no one, for the matter. It’s not good if someone’s sad. But, hey—hey. You know what else is nothing?” Lance asks as he pours himself his own alien coffee in his favourite mug. His hair is neat but for a cow lick at the top of his head. 

“What is?” Keith asks, eyeing the out-of-place lock of hair. 

There’s a pause. Then: “My stomach!” Lance answers, immediately roaring with laughter. Keith groans, but hides a smile. Hunk is chuckling from his spot next to the food goo hoses. Lance and his jokes.

“That was really bad,” Pidge tells him after emerging from her facepalm. 

“Hey, I’m just telling the truth! Hunk, my man! You gotta fill it!”

“Breakfast is coming right up,” Hunk chirps. The yellow paladin begins to fiddle with the many buttons and dials of the food goo machine as Lance launches into a story of how he and his siblings made a failed breakfast for his parents in bed. Telling stories about Earth (“About home,” Lance will say) every breakfast has become a sort of tradition for them. It’s like a cure for their homesickness. As much as Keith has nothing left back there, he still considers it home. 

So, they reminisce. They listen. Pidge is, as usual, nodding along to Lance’s account while staring at the computer, and Hunk is humming a soft tune, but he’s obviously paying attention. Keith almost chokes on his coffee when Lance tells them that he burnt the bacon so much that they were black. 

It’s like any other morning. 

And Keith will keep pretending it is.

  


  


“Seriously Pidge? You’re still reading that?” 

From beneath the training bot’s arm which he has blocked with his sword, Keith spots Lance crouched next to Pidge’s seat, surveying the computer that’s on her lap.

“It’s a good fic,” she says.

Keith steps backward, out of the bot’s reach. 

“It is?”

“Yeah. Though I don’t agree with the way the author portrays you in the last chapter. It’s out of character.”

Keith finds himself silently agreeing. Pidge is right. The author depicts Lance like he isn’t worth anything, like he isn’t valuable to the team. Lance is important. He’s the team’s sharpshooter, his right hand man! The fan writing should know better.

It’s a stark difference from the way Keith is portrayed. He’s mostly cool, calm, collected; a better version of himself. The difference in characterization had especially puzzled him. It's so evident that he has too much of a short temper when they're on their missions. His impulsiveness have landed him and the team in tons of dangerous situations. Heck, he's almost gotten himself killed so many times that he can't keep count on his fingers. There is no way that he's seen as that. 

He parries a particularly sneaky strike. Whoever the author is may be influenced by the way the team promote themselves. That may be why he’s made out as some great leader while Lance is portrayed as the third wheel. He should talk to Coran about their advertising. He doesn’t want Lance to come off that way. 

Lance is frowning. “Out of character? How?” 

“They treat you like you’re stupid and shallow. And yeah, you act stupid sometimes, although you obviously aren’t, and you’re far from shallow. Like, really.” 

_Clang._ A successful parry.

“Um. Thanks, I guess.” 

_Clang._

“You should give it a read to see.”

_Clang._

“Actually, I’ve read it.”

Keith almost gets hit by the bot’s sword. He dodges it in the nick of time, but the tip catches his thigh. Gritting his teeth, he moves back, far from the bot’s range. He rubs the spot. There will be a bruise there in the morning.

“Changed your mind, huh,” Pidge observes slyly. Because of the bot’s powerful swing, the sword is stuck to the floor. Keith takes a deep breath, the pain ebbing, as he waits for the bot to disengage it. “I thought you were against it.”

“I had to know what they were writing about,” Lance defends.

“Well, what did you think?” Pidge asks curiously.

“I don’t know.” Lance rubs the back of his neck. “It’s okay, I guess.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. ‘Okay’? _‘Okay’?!_ Lance, this is the most ‘Liked’ fic in the whole website and all you can say is it’s _‘okay’_?”

Lance makes a noise of discontent just as the bot recovers the sword with a loud scrape of metal. “Hey, you asked me how I felt about it.” 

“Yeah, I did, but saying it’s ‘okay’ is a disservice to it. It’s a piece of art!”

“Pidge, you said it yourself. They mischaracterized me.”

“Look past that. It’s one tiny blip. Come on, they’re allowed some mistakes now and then.”

“Well, they should probably do better research,” Lance counters. 

“The author _did_ do their research. Very thoroughly. They know us. You don’t know the amount of dedication that goes into writing these. I thought you’d at least appreciate it.”

“Pidge, you’re misunderstanding me. I do appreciate it. I like that the fans are interested in us. It helps the Coalition grow. But I just think… that there are better fics out there.”

“Better? This is the best there is!” Pidge exclaims. “It’s like one of us wrote this! It’s that good!”

At that moment an epiphany strikes Keith. He feels like how the scientist who discovered penicillin must have felt, staring at the mold eating his bacteria, except Keith's looking at a training bot who's trying to incapacitate him. It’s a bolt from the blue, the way it materializes in his head, brilliant and shocking at once. Because, of course, _of course_ , that was the answer.

He's jolted back into reality when the bot strikes a hard blow to his chest and he's knocked over backwards, hitting his head, with a hard thunk, on the metal floor. He hears the combined gasp of Lance and Pidge, then afterwards, hurried, approaching footsteps. Lance’s worried voice (“Keith? Keith? Are you okay?”) floats to him in the haze. Warm hands are touching his face and his vision is blurring. He can only see colourful blobs. 

Needless to say, it’s clear what he must do, even though he’s pretty sure he’s got a concussion.

  


  


The three are in Keith’s room, fussing over him as he lays prone on the bed. Hunk has a bowl of pink food goo prepared, ready to be eaten; Pidge is researching about brain trauma in her laptop; Lance is flitting about worriedly, alternating between fluffing his pillow and fixing his blanket, wondering out loud if he should call Shiro.

“No. Don’t,” Keith says, carefully pulling himself up. His head feels heavy. “That would just worry him. I’m okay.”

Lance is frowning. “Keith, that was a really nasty fall.“

“It looks worse than it is. I’m fine.” He gives them all a knowing look. Their faces of concern only serve to annoy him. “I appreciate what you guys have done, but I can manage this. Don’t worry about me.”

They stare at him for a full five seconds. He stares back, mouth set in a straight line.

“Then, if that’s the case,” Pidge finally says, closing the lid of her laptop shut. She stands up. “We’ll check on you every hour or two. Get some sleep.”

“You don’t have to—“

“We’ll just knock on your door, and if you answer, we’ll leave you alone,” Hunk says.

Keith sighs. “Okay.” Whatever makes them leave. 

“Here’s your food goo. It’s your favourite flavour,” Hunk says, putting the tray at the foot of his mattress. He realizes he’s kind of hungry. “There’s some of that fake-tea drink you like as well.”

“Thanks. A lot.” He picks up the the tray and places it on his lap.

He waits for them to file out. Lance is the last one to go, but he halts, staring at the open door. He stands there for too long that the door slides shut. Then he turns. There’s a furrow between his brows.

“Keith—”

“Lance, I’m okay.”

“I know that. It’s just…” Lance bites his lip. He looks like he’s unsure if he should say anything. “I know you never lose focus when you’re training,” he tells him after a lengthy pause. “So if you want to talk…”

“Lance,” he repeats. “I’m fine.”

“Okay. But if you need anything…” Lance pauses again. Finally, he nods. “Okay, Keith.” He steps forward. The doors slide open. “I’ll see you around.”

“Bye.”

When the door shuts close, Keith lets his eyes slip close. He’s already regretting dismissing Lance. Maybe it’s best if Keith did talk to him. This fanfiction concerns the both of them, and Lance is the best person to discuss it with since he’s unwillingly part of this whole fiasco. And Keith can admit that it’s weird. Lance has said it himself: it’s strange to be paired off with your rival/friend/one-sided crush.

But the thing is, Lance isn’t bothered. By any of it. He’s read it, and even admitted to Pidge that he’s read it. Lance has voiced his opinion on the whole thing, and moved on. The piece of fan fiction is but an everyday fact to Lance, like the sky is blue, or fishes live in water (on Earth anyways). 

It’s baffling to him why Lance would let it slide. It’s Lance that the author wrongly portrays, and Lance that should feel offended, but he doesn’t give two quiznaks. It speaks a lot about his personality. He doesn’t let anybody’s opinions get the best of him nor let it mar his spirit. Maybe Keith should take a page out of his book.

But he can’t. As much as Keith wants to move on like Lance, he can’t. Because it’s bothering him, like a mosquito bite you keep itching. And Keith can admit that the author’s writing is great, the plot compelling and the dialogue what he imagines them to say if put in those situations, but the way the author treats Lance in that last chapter isn’t fair in the slightest. Why did they get all of the other paladins right, their personalities right, but not him? How can they believe that Lance thinks of himself as a disposable member of the team? Everyone of them is chosen for a reason, and Lance isn’t an exception. Heck, he’s the first paladin to be chosen and the fans think of him as but the dumb one.

It’s unacceptable. He can’t believe this is the most popular fic of the website. As much as the writing is comparable to a best-selling author’s, it can’t even respect Lance.

And what if all the fics are like this? What if they think Lance is some throw away member? And even worse, what if they severely mischaracterize everyone—even Coran? 

So the idea that Pidge gives him becomes more attractive. The blame is all on her. He’s just trying to set the record straight. He’s only setting an example. His mind is already brimming with words and he wants to write them down. 

His will be better than this garbage that treats Lance like a used toy.

He’ll show them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feedback is welcome! i love hearing what you guys have to say.


	2. twist

Keith sits crossed-legged on his bed, back against the wall as he types on the tablet. He places word after word, what he wants to say spilling out into his fingertips in a rush, hoping Lance is coming across as Keith sees him: a boy who’s heart is as big as the universe and who always stands up for what’s right.

Even though he can be a bit annoying sometimes.

He finishes typing a sentence and stops. He thinks. There is something in his mind, like a half-formed object in a dream, but he can’t make the shape of it. The dialogue doesn't feel right. Not like Lance would say it.

He sighs, and deletes the sentence.

Keith had written before. He had kept a diary, placing all of his angsty thoughts in it when he was in the home. He’d written stories of what could have happened if his dad were alive, if he didn’t try and go back into the burning house to save those people, but he’s never shown anyone that. It’s for his eyes only. And truth be told, they were really sappy. It’s probably still in the shack, sitting there, collecting dust.

Not that anyone will look.

Keith finishes a lengthy paragraph and he's rewarding himself by taking a slurp of food goo when he hears a soft knock on the door.

“Check up.” It’s Lance. His voice sounds rough around the edges, like he’s only waken up.

“I’m awake,” Keith answers after a few seconds, in what he hopes is a convincing tone of tiredness.

 _I’m sorry I’m writing about us kissing, but it’s for your own good_ , he wants to add, but of course, he doesn’t say that. He also doesn’t say that he wouldn’t mind kissing him.

He wonders how Lance looks, with sleep-mussed hair. A bit of drool on the side of his mouth. Wait: maybe he has a face mask on. Who knows.

“Okay,” Lance answers after a pause. “Good night, Keith. I hope you’re feeling better.”

He waits until the footsteps fade. He looks at the screen, not reading it, just staring at the blinking cursor. Then he gets back to work.

  


  


**Rewrite the Stars by KosmicWolfling**

**Author’s note:**  This is intended as a rewrite of In a Blue Moon by read_ingpaladinfan. I disliked how Lance (the Red Paladin) was depicted in the latest chapter, so here’s a fic that treats him better. 

Chapter 1 

It was so easy to kiss Lance. 

The moment Black landed, Keith was sprinting, towards the direction of Red. Lance was standing there in front of the lion, eyes wide, as Keith threw himself at him, catching his lips, which were warm, and so soft. It felt so comfortable. Like he belonged there. Like it was home. He could stay there forever. 

He didn’t care if anyone saw. Right now, none of it mattered. 

Keith could have lost him. It was so close. All because Lance was in the self sacrificing mood. Keith would have gone without kissing Lance his whole life if he had died. 

He couldn’t imagine why he didn’t do it sooner.  

  


  


When Keith finally posts the chapter, eyes blurry, he allows himself to sink in relief. Beside him, the bowl of food goo is scraped clean, shovelled down during a bout of speedy editing, and his cup of fake-tea is empty but for the dregs. Stretching his arms, he yawns and checks the time.

It’s in the early hours of the morning. Nearing another hour. Any time now, one of the three will knock on his door.

Sure enough, after a few minutes, there are three soft bangs on the metal.

“Keith, last check up!” says a bright voice. It sounds like Hunk. He has always been an early riser. Probably baker’s instinct, or something.

“Yup,” Keith shouts, loudly enough, he hopes. His eyes are drooping.

“Okay, uh, good night… or good morning.”

But Keith doesn’t hear the tail end of the sentence, because he’s already asleep.

  


  


“How’s your head, Keith?” asks Shiro during lunch—or what Keith’s considers his brunch, since he just woke up. Keith’s serving himself some technicolour vegetables, spoon in hand, but he stills when Shiro asks the question.

He turns and glares at the three. Hunk is shrugging and Pidge looks like she doesn’t even care, but when his eyes stray to Lance, he’s smiling sheepishly, hands turned out in a gesture that says _What could I do?_

Keith can’t believe his crush is a tattle-tale. The same one he wrote a kissing scene of a few hours before, mind you.

“I’m fine, Shiro,” he finally answers when he’s done glaring. “Just a small injury.”

“I’m glad you got your rest.”

"Thanks."

“I heard it was a hard hit to the head,” Allura remarks, concerned.

“I’m fine,” Keith repeats tersely, stabbing a vegetable with his fork.

“You should lay off on the physical exercise for now since you’re healing,” suggests Shiro in a way that feels like it isn’t a suggestion at all. Keith frowns as he munches on a pink carrot.

“ _All_ physical exercise?” asks Allura, lips pursed. “I was going to suggest some team exercises today since I felt our connection was a bit weak, but if we aren’t able to because of this…”

Great. Keith’s holding back the team, as usual. First, he refuses his role as a leader, now he’s not allowing them to improve on their teamwork, all because he got a concussion.

“Ooh, Allura, I might have a solution for that,” Pidge chimes in. “I have this new program I’ve been meaning to test out. It’s like an escape room, but we have different sets of skills assigned to each of us and we all use them together to succeed.”

“That sounds so awesome,” says Hunk, delighted, as Lance murmurs in agreement beside him.

“An escape room?” Allura looks confused. “I've never heard of it. What does it do?”

“Oh, no, no, nope, that’s not acceptable,” says Lance, tutting and wagging his finger. Keith takes note this. He takes note of it like the way he took note of how Lance scrunches his nose just a bit when he’s frustrated. Or how his eyebrows furrow when he listens to a question. He got those tiny details correct in his story, right?

“You, Princess,” Lance continues, “are getting a lesson on this.” Then he launches into a detailed explanation that Keith’s perfectly content to listen to (since he doesn’t really know what an escape room is either, and well, Lance’s voice is nice) but his attention is cut short when Shiro nudges him.

“A concussion, Keith?” Shiro says in a low voice. His tone isn’t accusing in any way, but Keith can’t help but feel the disappointment radiating off of him. He’s already bracing himself for the scolding.

“It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Like I said, it’s just a scratch.”

“Keith.”

Keith grimaces. “Okay. Next time, I’ll tell you.” Shiro raises his eyebrows. “I _promise_.”

“Okay then. I was just worried. I know I’m acting like you’re annoying big brother, but like all annoying big brothers, I care about you, Keith.”

He stares at his lap, not meeting Shiro’s eyes.

“And you know, I wasn’t the only one worried,” Shiro remarks innocently. Keith looks up, eyebrows knitted. “Lance was too.”

Keith doesn’t feel so guilty anymore. He frowns. Of all the place to be reminded of his crush, Shiro is amazingly adept at doing it at the wrong time. Like when he’s just become the author of a romance story about him and Lance. He rolls his eyes. “Thanks for the info, Shiro.”

“Just saying,” Shiro answers with a shrug and a twitch of his lips. Shiro turns his attention to the vegetable speared on his fork. “By the way, doesn’t this look like a fuschia cucumber to you?”

  


  


They end up testing out Pidge’s program to great success. Well, great success on Pidge’s end; but not so much with the team. The escape room was extremely confusing, the codes too complicated, the skills they were assigned useless; as a result, it had them all snapping at each other. Which is what he and Lance are currently doing.

The both of them have been tasked to solve one of the locks to a chest while Pidge, Allura and Hunk are figuring out the password to the computer. The room is a mockup of one of Zarkon’s control rooms, complete with foreboding metal walls and low, purple coloured lights, while the threat of a (fake) bomb hangs in the air. They have to defuse it in under an hour, or else, as Pidge had gleefully explained , they’d be “blown up”. To his chagrin, it’s proving really difficult. The codes are just so confusing.

Damn Pidge. He can’t even ask her how to solve it because each escape room makes its own solutions. If he’s being honest, he just wants to get out of here so he can check how his fic is doing.

Beside him, Lance looks distressed as he points at the tablet. “No, Keith, you have to read this first—“

“We can get this.“ He turns the four number combination, trying every sequence on the screen on the chest. It’s a square. 4x4. It has to be one of them.

The lock doesn’t open.

Lance is frowning. “I told you, Keith.”

“No, Lance. I got this.“ He tries the last row, hoping it’s that one.

Doesn’t work.

“Keith, will you just listen?“

“I _am_ listening,” he says brusquely as he redos the first row. It doesn’t unlock. Again. He wants to strangle something.

“No, you’re not. Will you stop doing and start listening—“

“I am, but if you just let me do it—“

“You can’t, because you have to read this—“

 _“Will you please be quiet?!”_ Allura shouts from the other end of the room. She looks like a crazed computer hacker, the way her face is outlined against the screen’s brightness, an eye twitching. It’s kind of funny. Beside her, Pidge and Hunk have grim expressions on their faces.

Their frustration with each other disspate as they exchanged glances. Lance bites his lip. He looks like he’s trying not to laugh.

“Sorry, Allura,” Keith says as seriously as he can muster. 

"Yeah, sorry, Princess," Lance pitches in, clearly on the verge of laughter.

Allura gives them both a firm nod, and returns back to her work, typing rapidly on the computer.

He catches Lance’s eye. They start giggling quietly.

“Jeez, I’ve never seen Allura so invested in something like an escape room,” Lance whispers to him, grinning, after they both wipe the tears away from their eyes. He looks back down at the tablet. His eyelashes are really long. “Never saw her angry like that. A lot of spunk.”

Something slimy and disgusting curls up in his gut, replacing the lightness there before. Before he can stop himself, he's blurting, “But you do like girls with spunk right?” It isn’t exactly a secret that Lance has a crush on Allura.

“Mm,” Lance says thoughtfully, looking back at Keith. “I guess I like anybody with a little spunk.” Then he shoots him a wink.

Keith’s grateful for the dim lighting, because he must be flushing, judging from how warm his face feels. Lance is back to scrutinizing the tablet, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Keith can’t focus on anything but the small freckles dotted on Lance’s nose. He should add that detail to his fic. They’re too cute not to notice.

Lance looks up suddenly. “What?” he asks.

“What?” Keith swallows. Crap. Was he that obvious?

“Do I have something on my face, or what?”

“Uh…” He scrambles. All he can think of is: “No.”

Lance looks dubious and with good reason. But he leaves it alone, because he’s saying, “Anyways, about the code… I think I got it.” A grin lights up his face. “We have to add them all together, not just input it straight up like you’ve been doing. And _then_ , we turn the key.”

Keith follows his instructions and sure enough, after a bit of maneuvering, the lock falls away. Lance gives him a knowing look.

“Okay,” Keith admits. “I should have listened to you.”

“What did I tell you?”

Inside the chest, there’s a weird device that Keith has no clue how it will be helpful, but he doesn’t care because he’s smiling back at Lance, who’s doing a weird victory dance that kind of looks like a remixed macarena.

And fine, he’ll eat his words: Keith should’ve listened to him. But all he can think of, as Lance joins him to scrutinize the device, wondering out loud what it is, is that he’d really like for whoever wrote In a Blue Moon to see this. Because Lance isn’t the dumb one. Not at all.

  


  


**Rewrite the Stars by KosmicWolfling**

Chapter 4

“Anybody could do it,” said Lance. 

“Lance, not just anybody. You saved an alien race by solving one of their riddles!” 

“It’s no big deal.” 

Keith looked back at him in wonder. There were freckles there on the bridge of his nose, and Keith wanted to kiss each one of them. He wanted to pull Lance in, kiss him fervently, let him know how brave he was, despite Keith being a nervous wreck all throughout the mission. He couldn’t even function, knowing that the fate of an entire species was resting on their shoulders, let alone figure out the riddle. But Lance did that, and more. 

Lance was giving him funny look. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Lance asks. 

There was a smile forming on Keith’s face. “I just think my boyfriend’s really smart.” 

Lance blushed. “That’s what we are now?” 

Keith laughed. “Of course.” He felt himself melt when Lance looked back at him softly. “Of course.”    

  


  


Keith stares back at a blank word document.

It has been a few days since he has published his latest chapter. If he’s being honest, he doesn’t even like it. Regardless, he published it anyway. The plot was moving too fast for his taste, their fictional selves already too comfortable in their relationship, and the whole thing felt too artificial, like they’ve jumped straight into the honeymoon phase, with no troubles preceding it. It was not realistic at all.

He’s struggling to make anything happen to them. They just keep… kissing. And as much as he likes Lance, and imagines kissing him a lot, it was getting old. Every time he writes a sentence, or a whole paragraph, or fills a page, he’ll delete the entire thing to end up where he started: a blank document. Because, each time, something tells him that his writing doesn’t sound in the least bit correct.

He wants to tear his hair out.

To add to his dwindling motivation, his fic isn’t getting that much visibility. Yeah, he’s posted a lot of chapters in just a few days, bumping it up in the ‘Recent Works’ page, but no one’s really noticing it. A total of ten ‘Reads’, five ‘Likes’ and two nice comments, both of which only asked when he was next updating. It was disappointing.

His work was nothing compared to In a Blue Moon.

He has been too ambitious. Of course, he can’t amass a following of that number, not when he's just starting out. Blue Moon built itself up, each chapter becoming more intriguing, the plot thickening ever so gradually. It knew how to hold its readers attentions, ensuring their loyalty like an old dog warming up to its new master.

Keith has a lot to learn before he can get to that level.

He sighs, throwing the tablet back on the mattress. He stares at the ceiling, as empty as his motivation. He can’t find that spark that made him create the first chapter, the spark that allowed him to know exactly where the story was going, what the characters were saying, why they were doing what they were doing. It’s gone, and frustratingly, he can’t recapture it.

He probably just needs a break. He should do something else other than read or write. He’s been staring at a screen for too long, locking himself in his room for days on end, only leaving it if he has to eat.

Maybe he’ll go and train. Keith hasn’t done that in a week, per Shiro’s orders. He wonders if he can beat that hard level, the one that got him concussed.

Scratch that, he’ll do the easier levels. He’ll probably get an earful from Shiro if he pushed himself too hard.

  


  


Keith stands at the side of the training deck, arms folded, as he looks at Lance, who is grinning back at him, attention turning from shooting the tiny metal spheres. They move so quickly that it’s dizzying.

“Keith? Is that really you? Am I seeing a hallucination?” Lance teases while he shoots a sphere point blank without even looking at it. Keith can’t help but feel impressed.

Keith uncrosses his arms and leaves his spot. “Shut up, Lance.”

“And he’s still the same,” Lance observes, smirking. He lowers his gun. “End training sequence.” The spheres drop to the floor and roll under the metal platform.

“I haven’t seen you, in like, forever, man,” says Lance, as he makes his way to the racks where Keith is trying to find his bayard.

‘ _Forever_ ’. It’s only been a week, but hey, Keith used to train everyday.

“Yup,” he answers. “Because, you know, Shiro banned me from training.” He narrows his eyes. “I wonder whose fault is that?”

Lance has the good grace to look ashamed. “Look, about that. I’m sorry I told him. I was just trying to look out for you.”

“Well, thanks, but,” Keith says, hefting his bayard in his hand which immediately transforms into a black sword, “I can look out for myself.”

“I didn’t mean for you to be upset.”

“I’m not upset.”

“It was a really nasty fall—“

“Lance.” He raises his sword at eye level. “Just fight me.”

Keith said the words to shut him up, but now he really wants it to happen. He stares at Lance, hoping he’ll say yes, but the boy is only looking at him with bewilderment.

“M-me?” Lance asks, incredulous. He lets out a nervous laugh. “You know I don’t fight with a sword. Besides, shouldn’t you take it easy with your concussion?”

“That’s why I want to fight you.”

Lance looks offended. It’s kind of adorable, the way his lower lip juts out just a bit when he’s frowning. Keith knows he’s pushing the right buttons to make his competitiveness emerge. So he’s pleased when Lance says, “You challenging me to a duel, Mullet?”

“I don’t know,” Keith says, raising his eyebrows. “Am I?”

“You are.” Lance sweeps his eyes over the sword display and chooses the closest one, grasping it in his right hand. It’s slender and longer than Keith’s blade, but it’s also heavier, what with the way Lance’s arm keeps drooping.

Keith smirks. “You’re sure about that one?”

“Did I stutter, Emo Boy?”

Keith’s lips twitch at the nickname.

They make their way to the platform. Lance settles into a beginner stance, long legs set shoulder width apart, though he looks unsure about it. Keith grins.

Oh, it’s on.

Lance is the one that charges first, but Keith parries the strike with little effort. Lance loses his footing from the strength of it, but he’s quick to recover. Keith allows him a second to catch his breath—Lance already looks winded—before he decides to attack.

To his surprise, Lance blocks it. Lance is grinning, his mouth curled up to one side. There’s a dimple there.

“Bet you thought I didn’t see that coming,” Lance says as they’re locked in cross swords. A fierce determination is in his blue eyes, and it’s so intense that Keith almost loses his composure.

Key word: almost.

“Oh, no,” Keith replied, smoothly slipping out of their lock and delivering a thrust to his right, “I knew.”

Lance barely jumps out of his range. His eyes are narrowed. “Sneaky.”

“Play the game, McClain.”

Keith delivers blow after blow, but each time, Lance counters it. However, Keith can see each block is affecting him, because Lance’s stance becomes unsteadier, and he’s switching from grasping his sword with one hand into two. Each thrust is countered, but it’s getting sloppier each time. Lance is audibly panting, the sound of his breath mingling with the clash of metal against metal.

It’s soon enough that they’re caught again in a cross swords, but Lance is barely holding on. They’re struggling, their pants loud in the room, and although it’s astounding that Lance has held up until now, Keith is stronger, and he’s going to win.

Lance stares wide-eyed at something behind him, confusion in his features.

“Shiro?”

Keith turns. There’s no one there. It only takes a millisecond for him to understand what’s happening when Lance delivers a strike to his side.

But, concussion be damned, Keith is faster than Lance. He’s been training at this longer than him.

There’s a small opening and Keith seizes the opportunity, flinging Lance’s sword out of his hold, which lands on the floor with a clatter. He delivers a soft punch to Lance’s gut, and Lance loses balance, falling onto the ground with a grunt. In a flash, Keith’s resting his leg on Lance’s stomach, holding the blade to his neck.

“That,” murmurs Keith, “was sneaky.”

Lance’s eyes are scrunched up.

“Okay, fine! I cheated!”

His sword is still held up to his neck. Lance feels very warm underneath him.

“I lose, okay? You win!”

Lance opens his eyes. They’re wide and they’re very blue. His lips are parted just a bit. Kissable. Keith finds himself staring at them.

“Keith?”

His gaze flits back to Lance. And that’s when it clicks.

He knows what he wants to write about.

  


  


**Rewrite the Stars by KosmicWolfling**

Chapter 5

Lance was already the loser. Keith had him pinned to the ground, his sword rested up against his neck. 

“I’m not yielding,” Lance told him. His face was very close. They were closer than they had been for the past few weeks. Looking back at his azule eyes, Keith was reminded of the heartbreak he had gone through for him. But Lance wanted time. 

It was a mistake. He didn’t know why they were doing this. He shouldn’t have asked Lance to fight him. Lance shouldn’t have agreed. Their bodies were too close, even though Lance had insisted some space. 

“You’ve already lost,” Keith said. 

Keith could kiss him there. He was close enough. But even though they had kissed so many times, he didn’t do it. He couldn’t. 

Because that would mean breaking Lance’s trust.

  


  


Lance is avoiding him.

Ever since their sword fight, Keith hasn’t been alone with him for more than two seconds. He’ll flee the moment Keith would find him alone in the training deck, muttering some excuse (“I was just leaving,” he’ll say with tight smile), or he’ll always be attached to either Hunk or Pidge, so Keith can’t even speak to him one-on-one. It’s extremely subtle, but Keith knows: Lance doesn’t want to be anywhere near him.

Well, maybe it’s because Keith had rushed out the moment he found his strike of inspiration for the chapter, not wanting to lose it, but he did help Lance up and said a, “Sorry, I gotta go,” before dashing out of the room. Which had payed off: he produced a two thousand word chapter with an exciting plot twist in the span of an hour, and published it that day. He was proud of it. But his inspiration was immediately dampened afterwards, because having returned to the training room, hoping to see Lance, he found no one there.

And when a team meeting that night occurred, Lance didn’t even acknowledge him, not meeting his eyes like usual.

Hence, a game of cat and mouse was born. Keith would try to catch him in the lounge, or go at a later time during breakfast so he could walk with Lance alone, but to no avail. Lance was sneaky. He knew what Keith was doing. Keith only ever had luck in the training room, but when Keith would blurt out his apology, not knowing why he was saying it in the first place, Lance would only nod and quickly leave.

He doesn’t get it. Is he upset that Keith beat him in their sword fight? He thought they had moved past being rivals, but Lance looks like he wants it to stay that way. Though that doesn’t really make sense either. They’ve been working well together, with Lance supporting his role as a leader, even coming to him for advice. They haven’t been snarling at each other like before. So there’s absolutely no reason for Lance to do a complete 180 on him, reverting back to their original antagonism. Right?

He’s confused.

“Keith, buddy? What do you think about this one?” Hunk asks startling him out of his thoughts.

He tears his gaze away from the restaurant window; Hunk is pointing at a line on the electronic menu. “Um. Looks good.”

“Okay, I’ll order that too.” He writes down the number—or what the equivalent of a number is on this planet—on the holo screen. “Anything else?”

“Hunk, whatever you order will be good. You’re the one with the refined tastebuds here.”

Hunk shrugs. “Just making sure.” He presses something on the screen and a robotic voice makes an affirmative noise. “Okay, it’s gonna be here in about fifteen minutes. I’m sure they’ll be back by then.”

“Great,” Keith replies, returning back to his staring of the outside world. 

“You know,” Hunk suddenly says, like he's been waiting for the right time to say it, “it’s good that you’re out and about again.”

Keith turns his gaze to him and arches an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Well… since your concussion you’ve been keeping to yourself a lot,” observes Hunk. He shrugs. “Like, you don’t even hang out with us as much.”

Keith frowns. “I have.”

“Well, yeah. Only _this_ week. But before that… I don’t know. Was the concussion that bad?”

No, it hadn’t been. But he’s not going to start admitting it's because he’s been writing fanfiction.

And he prefers not to think about that.

“I guess it was,” he answers instead and resumes his contemplation out of the window to end the conversation. 

Somewhere, Lance is among the commotion outside, where the glinting metal streets are full of tiny shops and stalls, aliens moving, stopping, looking. Lance had volunteered to go with Coran and Allura to find some damaged lion parts: some screws in the claws were loosening. Keith had offered as well, seeing it as an opportunity to talk to Lance privately, but Allura insisted one paladin was enough.

So he’s stuck with Hunk, sitting in a restaurant, waiting, wallowing in his thoughts. Never mind that he declined Pidge’s offer of going with her to find a replacement fan for her laptop. Shiro went with her instead. No, he’s fine here.

Sensing that Keith doesn't want to talk, Hunk has taken his personal tablet out. He's reading. It’s turned away from Keith, but in the window’s reflection, he can see what website he’s on. The familiar logo is there.

Keith averts his eyes. He keeps getting reminded. 

He doesn’t want to look at it. He’s only published the one chapter right after his fight with Lance, but he’s steered clear of the website after that, cold turkey. He hasn’t even checked how it’s doing. His inspiration took a nosedive when Lance started avoiding him. It makes him uneasy that he’s writing a nonexistent relationship with a friend who doesn’t even want to see his face.

The bell of the restaurant door jingles.

“Oh, there they are!”

He turns to find Pidge and Shiro approaching their table.

“Did you guys order yet?” Shiro asks when they’re in front of their booth.

“Yup,” answers Keith. He scoots over. Pidge slides in beside Hunk, who’s still absorbed in his reading—probably a Hunk/Shay story—while Shiro takes the one beside him. "It'll be here soon."

“Good,” says Shiro. “I’m starving.”

“Ooh, what are you reading there, Hunk?” asks Pidge, looking very interested as she nudges him.

Leave it to Pidge to stir some trouble. Sometimes, she can’t keep her mouth shut.

“Uh, nothing,” Hunk says, turning away the device more towards the window, which makes it even clearer what website he’s visiting.

“Hunk, you know I can see the window reflection,” points out Pidge. Keith feels a bubble of pity come up for him.

Hunk blushes. He looks like he just got caught sneaking his hand in the cookie jar. “Okay, I’m reading one. But you do it too, Pidge.”

“I didn’t say it was bad,” Pidge says. “In fact, I support it. As long as you’re reading the best fic of all time.”

“Which is…?”

Pidge rolls her eyes. “In a Blue Moon, of course.”

“Sorry, but what are you guys talking about?” Shiro asks, confusion in his features.

Oh no. Not Shiro.

This is exactly why Pidge needs to shut up.

“Fanfiction,” Pidge says unashamedly. “Fans write stories about us.”

Keith prays that Shiro would leave it at that. But whatever higher entity that exists doesn’t listen to him. 

“Oh, wow. That’s interesting,” Shiro answers, the way a parent would express mild curiosity over whatever cool thing their child was currently obsessed with. “Are they any good?”

“Very,” answers Pidge with a grin.

“You can actually check out the one I’m reading right now, Shiro,” says Hunk excitedly, handing over his tablet to him. Keith has never felt so betrayed. “It’s one of the best. It’s this rewrite of this popular fic—“

Pidge interjects. “Are you talking about Rewrite the Stars?”

Keith freezes.

“Oh, yeah. It’s so good. Man, that fight scene was so well written. They even got your moves right, Keith!”

Keith feels nauseous. Shiro has the tablet turned on, and sure enough, on the screen, there’s his fic. _His fic_. Shiro’s eyebrows are knitted as he reads the summary, mouth sounding out silent words. Keith wants to throw the tablet all the way across the room.

Another wave of nausea comes over him when he catches a glimpse of the numbers. The ‘Likes’. The comments. The ‘Reads’.

Those aren’t real, right?

He feels a bit faint.

“Keith, are you okay?” asks Hunk in worried tone. “You’re looking a little pale.”

“Yeah, I’m good,” he manages to say. He’s just having an internal freakout, that’s all.

“Well, the fic _is_ about him,” Pidge points out.

Shiro turns off the tablet and gives it back to Hunk. “Okay, cool. But this is strictly fiction, right?”

“Yeah, the website’s all moderated and stuff,” Pidge replies.

He can’t breathe. His lungs feel constricted. He stands up. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

They don’t look too alarmed at his sudden movement, but he can tell Shiro is a bit concerned. His big brother senses are probably telling him something is wrong. Keith just wants to leave.

“Just get back quickly since the food is gonna be here any second,” Hunk is saying. The words don’t really register but Keith feels himself nodding. “It’s best when it’s hot!”

His heart is thudding so loudly that he’s scared they may hear it. Sliding out of the booth, he makes his way to the bathroom, legs feeling like water. He can still hear Shiro continue asking questions as Hunk and Pidge enthusiastically answer them when the door to the bathroom slides shut.

It’s quieter here, but it’s not empty. There’s an alien that kind of looks like a walking fish head washing its hands in the sink, so, trembling, he slips into one of the stalls and quickly locks the door close.

He sits on the edge of the bowl, trying to steady his breaths. This can’t be happening. It can’t be. 

Because how? How did his story rocket up so fast, that even Pidge knows about it? How did it get that amount of recognition, heaps of comments, blinding amount of ‘Likes’ in such a short period of time? Last Keith checked, he only had a meagre few. That had been a week ago.

He pulls up the communicator on the arm of his suit. There’s a web browser on this. His hand is shaking so bad that he misspells the site name several times.

He must have looked at the numbers wrong, added in an extra zero somewhere when looking over Shiro’s shoulder. The holo screens can sometimes duplicate the image, make it look like the middle of a double mirror when turned just a bit. That has to be it. There’s no other explanation.

Unless, it isn’t a trick of the light. Then Keith should be happy, right? This is what he always wanted. To have a massive following and combat In a Blue Moon’s wrongness. That’s why he started writing in the first place. He wanted to be the standard, the holy grail of fanfiction, and it looks like his dream is being fulfilled now.

The website loads.

His breath catches in his throat.

It’s real.

There are thousands of ‘Reads’, a little more than a thousand ‘Likes’, and an abundance of comments. His hand is shaking as he quickly scrolls through all of them, words racing like his heartbeat as he sees snatches of phrases praising him, expressing hate, urging him to “Please continue!”. But not one of them matters, not now.

Because there’s one comment that stands apart from the rest, one of the earliest, that seems to have sparked this hailstorm.

read_ingpaladinfan commented: You write like someone I know. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this came late. it is a tad bit longer however!  
> i had so much fun writing the fight scene, hee hee >:3c  
> once again, feedback is welcome!


	3. tension

His breaths are loud in the stillness of the bathroom. Keith is trying to even them out, but it’s proving difficult. Each inhale and exhale feels like cotton is being stuffed into his mouth, constricting his throat, making it hard to breathe. 

A blank shock. That is what his mind is right now. He can’t process the words right in front of him, even though Keith is staring at them and they stare back, as unchanged as he first read them. He has no clue how long he has been in the toilet; the stalls beside him have cleared, the fish head alien that washed its hands having left a long time ago—Keith is the only one there. 

He doesn’t know what to feel. What emotions are you even supposed to feel when the most popular author of the website acknowledges your story?

Before he can think of a a plausible answer, a voice breaks through his thoughts.

“Keith?” 

His heart is in his throat. This can’t be happening.

“You in here?”

God. Why?

It’s Lance.

He is right in front of his bathroom door, paladin armoured shoes with the distinct blue ankle cuffs in clear view. Keith wills himself to say something, hoping his voice doesn’t sound like he’s having the worst freakout of his life. 

“Yeah. I’m here.” 

“Oh, um, okay.” This is so awkward. It must feel the same on Lance’s end, what with him already avoiding Keith like the plague. “Shiro sent me because you were taking long and the food’s here.”

“Oh.” Keith swallows. “Uh, thanks. I’ll be out in a bit.”

“Okay. Um.” There’s a hesitation where Keith thinks Lance is about to say something else, like he’s going to step closer to his stall—but then he withdraws, Keith no longer able to see his shoes. “See you, then.”

The painful exchange ends with the door closing. For a few seconds, Keith stares at the blank stall door, his mind awash with too many emotions to name. 

Then he screams into his hands, hoping his suit muffles the sound. He deflates. 

Keith has never felt so lost since they found the Blue Lion.

 

 

Somehow, dinner goes by without any hitches. Keith doesn’t say anything much all throughout, but the team doesn’t seem to mind, or think that anything is amiss. Really, he’s just happy that there’s no more mention of fanfiction, and that Allura and Coran are instead talking about the screws and the haggling they had to do to get it for a bargain, while Shiro and Lance listen intently. Hunk and Pidge have their own conversation going on—something about quadratic integrals—which he can’t make head or tails of. 

So it ends with them leaving the restaurant with stomachs full, Keith tailing the group. The market streets are a cacophany, an amalgam of sounds of street vendors selling their wares (“Get your prilium! Only 5 guac a clonk!”), negotiating customers, and hurried aliens moving through the busy crowd. Keith has to dodge a few to make way for them. Strolling around serves as a nice distraction before they get onto the ship and Keith is faced with reality again. It gives him time to recollect his thoughts.

However, much to his chagrin, his introspective walk is interrupted by Shiro falling into step beside him.

“You doing all right, Keith?” Shiro asks. 

Keith grits his teeth. He resists the urge to snap at him.

“Yeah. Why?”

“You just spent a long time in the bathroom. I thought you were sick.”

Keith gives him a grin that he is sure looks more like a grimace.

“Number 2, Shiro.” 

“Why didn’t you say so?”

Silence. And not the comfortable kind like they usually have, but the kind where Keith feels like he needs to break the strained quiet.

After a few minutes, Shiro does it for him instead. 

“Keith, did you know about the fanfiction?”

There it is. The question still catches Keith by surprise, so he schools his expression into what he hopes is one of boredom. Here Keith was, thinking he could face reality later. Turns out he has to face reality now. Leave it to Shiro to be meddlesome in his affairs. If he’s not too careful, Shiro might know about his involvement in this whole debacle, and then the game would be up. He can’t even fathom what would happen if he found out. Catastrophe, probably.

“Kind of. I don’t care about it.”

“I just wanted to ask, because of the thing with you and Lance...”

“‘Me and Lance’? It’s not just about ‘me and Lance’. It’s the whole team. I don’t care about it,” he says, irritably. 

“I’m just making sure, so, you know, you’re comfortable. I get it if you’re uncomfortable with it. I would be too, if I was in your position.”

“Really, Shiro,” scoffs Keith. “It’s fine.”

“I’m glad. I know it can be hard, because of the situation.”

“It doesn’t affect my relationship with him in anyway.”

“Okay,” Shiro says. “So long as it doesn’t. But there’s always the option to block the website—“

“No!”

They stare at each other, both shocked by his outburst. 

After the few agonizing seconds of quiet, Keith speaks. “Don’t—don’t do that. Because Pidge and Hunk would be really upset…”

“Okay, then. I won’t.”

An odd look comes over Shiro’s face, a mix between curiosity and disappointment. Curious because Shiro is probably wondering how Keith’s got entangled in this whole fanfiction mess; disappointed maybe because of Keith’s inability to be open with him. They resume their walk in uneasy silence, the air around them like a taut rubber band. 

Keith wants to smack himself over the head. 

He’s revealed too much.

 

 

 **In a Blue Moon by read_ingpaladinfan **

Chapter 24: Stars In Your Eyes

“Do you ever feel small?” said Lance in their silence. Staring back into space from their seat by the window, Lance felt like a useless speck of dust in the infinity of the universe, floating idly. He always did, ever since he became a part of Voltron. He was always the one that didn’t fit, who didn’t have any talents like the other paladins. Useless. Only an afterthought. 

Not like the boy beside him: Keith. The fighter. The leader. The one the team always looked up to.

Keith didn’t speak. Lance was already regretting saying the words, and he was about to backtrack when Keith answered.

“Always,” Keith finally said. His voice was quiet. “But sometimes, I don’t.”

Lance turned to find his intense, grey eyes looking back at him. Lance’s breath caught in his throat.

“And it’s usually when I’m with you.”

 

 

Keith collapses back on his bed.

There is no other explanation.

read_ingpaladinfan is a ghost.

He had been scouring their profile for the better hour after returning from their walk, checking their profile picture (generic), their biography (empty) and any of their other works (only one—which was, incidentally, In a Blue Moon). God forbid, he even reread their fic just to glean any kind of hint, forcing him to study the latest chapter, the one that he missed and vowed not to read after being decked by a robot. That was how desperate he became.

But there was nothing. It’s like they don’t even exist.

They were a blank slate. Anything personal, like external social media handles, even updates on their lives in the Author Notes, were strangely absent. To make matters worse (or better?), they never comment on fics. This is confirmed by the thousands of comments following the famous author’s on Keith’s work:

rainbow-lion replied to read_ingpaladinfan: WTQ!!!!!!!!!!!!THEY FINLLY CONMENTED ON ANO THER WORK KSAJHASLSAJKHKL 

Pidge1Love replied to read_ingpaladinfan: I’m surprised they praised this. It’s not even that good. They literally copied them. 

s-h-i-r-o-c-u-t-i-e replied to read_ingpaladinfan: A wild read_ingpaladinfan appeared!

YellowRocks_116 replied to read_ingpaladinfan: what the hell does this comment mean

To which Keith thinks: yeah, what the hell _does_ the comment mean? Is read_ingpaladinfan saying his writing is reminiscent of someone they know personally? Do they know a fellow fanfic author who has fics that are similar to Keith’s?

Because that can’t be. People shouldn’t be acting so surprised that read_ingpaladinfan is commenting on Keith’s fic in the first place. If read_ingpaladinfan had author friends, the author would have commented on their friend’s works by now—it's practically law. You can’t just ignore your friend’s fics. Plus, those friends—if they existed—would have name-dropped read_ingpaladinfan sooner or later since they were so well established in the community. No one would think of not doing that. It’d be like a nod from God himself.

Keith has another interpretation, and this one bordering on conspiracy theory zone: that the comment is a threat. Maybe read_ingpaladinfan knows that Keith is the writer. Maybe they’re plotting to reveal to the entire universe that one of their beloved heroes is writing his own fanfiction. Maybe they plan to expose the true author as none of other than Voltron’s very own leader.

But then where would that take them? What would happen if they did do that? Would they try to defame him? Use blackmail? Extortion?

Exactly why would they comment at all? What did they want to achieve with an ambiguous statement? 

There are too many answers and none simultaneously. 

Keith’s head is spinning. He needs to get out of this room before he goes crazy. 

Standing up, he slips on his Red Lion slippers, the door sliding open as he steps out, leaving his dark, tablet-lit room behind him.

As he walks, he soaks in the eery stillness of the castle; it’s like it is holding its breath. Everybody must be sleeping. His footsteps echo as he goes through the twists and turns of the hallways, muscle memory taking him to his favourite spot in the castle.

When he arrives however, there is someone already seated on the alcove, their pajamaed figure outlined against the blackness of space and the tiny flecks of stars.

Lance turns at the sound of his approaching footsteps, his blue eyes wide. “Hey."

“Hey,” says Keith awkwardly, already resigning himself to changing his spot. There’s another one on the other side of the castle. “I’ll just—leave—“

“No—no! It’s fine!” Lance assures him. “You can stay.”

“Are you sure?” It’s shocking to even have Lance's attention directed at him, let alone allow him to sit with him. After a week of straight avoidance and that stiff conversation in the bathroom, he doesn’t really know how to act in his presence.

“Yeah, man. Sharing is caring.”

Uncertainly, Keith takes a seat on the other end of the alcove. They’re far enough away so that he can comfortably put his feet up, Red Lion slippers in full view. Lance doesn’t seem like he wants to talk so Keith does his best sitting in silence with him, opting to look out of the window instead and immerse himself in the the cosmos, the stars like a comforting blanket that covers his whole body.

When a comet moves past the window, leaving a trail of dust behind it, Lance suddenly asks, “You know, I always feel small whenever I sit here. Do you ever feel like that?”

The words feel familiar. He turns his attention to Lance. He has a ghost of a smile on his face, like Keith’s supposed to be in on a joke. But Keith doesn’t get it, so he only replies, “I don’t know. I don’t really know what to feel.” He shrugs. “I like it I guess. Being small.”

It seems like the wrong thing to say because there’s a glimmer of disappointment in Lance’s face. It’s gone the moment Keith can further inspect him, his face breaking into a grin so fast that Keith had thought he imagined it. “Well, you know what’s not small?” he asks Keith suddenly.

Keith rolls his eyes. “What?”

“The elephant in the room.”

He can’t help the twitch of his lips although he knows what Lance is referring to. “You mean you ignoring me for a whole entire week?”

“Ah, yeah,” Lance says, his smile disappearing as he turns his eyes downwards. “About that… I’m sorry for avoiding you.”

“It’s okay. I understand we’re still… rivals.”

Lance lets out a humourless bark of laughter. “Rivals? I haven’t considered you my rival in a very long time. Not since you took over Black. It’s just—“ He sighs. “Sometimes I get the feeling that we're good friends, but sometimes… sometimes I feel like you don’t like me.”

“I do like you, Lance.”

“Yeah, that’s the point. Like, remember when you had your concussion? Your concussion isn’t your fault, of course, but you just—you just disappeared, Keith! You just stayed shut up in your room for a week and—and I get it, you were injured. But afterwards? When you decided to show your face and fight me and then you suddenly rushed out of there without explanation—without warning? I just—I feel like I’m not worth your time.“ He sighs. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m overreacting.”

“No,” Keith dissents. “You’re not. It was rude, what I did. I’m sorry I rushed out like that. I… had lot on my mind.”

“Then I’m sorry for avoiding you. I shouldn’t have reacted that way. It was stupid of me.”

“It’s fine. We all do stupid things.” He looks back at Lance, who is staring back intently. “So I guess... our mistakes negate each other? And that means we can be friends again, right?" he asks, hopeful. 

Lance laughs again, but this time it is an actual laugh. "We’ve always been friends, Mullet Head. If you're worrying about that, don't, because even if we have a disagreement, I'll still be your friend."

"That's really reassuring." 

"I don't even know if you said that sarcastically, but I'll take it," Lance tells him, amused. "Anyways. You said something had been bothering you. So, go on. Spill." 

Keith frowns. “'Spill' what?"

“You said 'you had a lot on your mind in the past week'. So." He turns up his palms. "Tell me.”

“I—“ Keith huffs out a laugh. Lance’s frankness is something to be admired. “Straight to the point, huh? I thought we’d have a hug session first.”

Lance flaps hits hand dismissively. “Later. And anyways, you owe me one for rushing out like that.”

A grin quirks his mouth. “Fine. But that means you owe me one too.“

Lance grins. “Whatever you say, man. Now, spill.”

”You’re so eager.”

“I’m just concerned!”

“Okay, I'll tell you." He pauses, thinking before he says, "The thing that’s bothering me.... it’s just about leading Voltron.” It’s a half truth, which counts for something. He shakes his head. “It’s stupid, I know.”

“No, it’s not,” Lance says immediately. A thoughtful look crosses his face. “I didn’t know you were still bothered by that.”

“Yeah. Like I said, it’s stupid.”

“No, it’s not,” Lance repeats, more severely. “I get it. It’s because of Shiro, right? You think he should pilot Black? Well, he’s a good leader and all, but sometimes, he can be a bit too much. Like a parent, y’know? But with you, I think… I think I find it much easier to come to you with my problems. And I think we, um, connect more? Maybe it’s because we’re pretty good friends already. Maybe it's because we _have_ that connection. I don’t know if the feeling’s mutual, but I sure hope it is.”

A smile tugs at Keith’s lips. “It is.”

“Well, there. And anyways, I think you’ll become better than Shiro. Maybe, you’re even better now.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, man,” agrees Lance, looking to the window. “You have a lot to learn, but things will work themselves out. You learn really fast—like crazy fast Keith, I’m not even joking when I say that, it’s really impressive—so I know you weren't chosen for nothing. I know you'll live up to your full potential. But don't let the team know I said that," Lance continues, turning to face him with a lopsided smile perched on his face. "I have to keep up appearances."

Keith almost rolls his eyes. "Don't worry. The team will still think you hate me."

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Lance squawks.

He can’t help but laugh at Lance’s comical look of offence. It feels like a long time since he's laughed like this, genuine and deep. He’s missed that a lot, that ache he feels in his belly after a giggling fit. "I'm kidding, Lance,” he sniggers.

“Yeah, right,” huffs Lance, crossing his arms. He snorts. “The one time I’m actually nice to you, and you make fun of me!”

Keith is still laughing, but at the corner of his eye he can see Lance grinning as well. 

He feels like he's home again, because him and Lance? They’re back to how they always were.

 

 

“—eith? Keith? You awake?”

Someone is shaking his shoulder.

He lifts open his eyes.

There is drool that has dripped onto his shirt and his back is killing him when he lifts himself off of the wall. Hunk’s beaming face greets him as he wipes the saliva from his mouth.

“Yeah,” Keith says. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth. “Whatimeissit?”

Hunk checks his watch. “It’s almost 6 AM. I was on my way to make breakfast but then I stumbled upon you guys.” He gestures at him and Lance, who is still sleeping, head propped against the wall, jaw agape and snoring quietly. “Late night talking?” 

Keith smiles softly as Lance begins to rouse from their voices, eyes fluttering open.

“You can say that.”

 

 

A few days pass. After his and Lance’s reconciliation, everything was pretty much back to normal. He and Lance have returned to their normal camaraderie, and they’ve been hanging out so much that it earned him a wink from Shiro (Keith wanted to punch him in the face). Their missions were going well—he was more confident in leading the team, enhanced by receiving encouraging words and pleased looks from them, all with a little incitement from Lance. He had even returned to writing his story, having broken his abstinence from Voltron Fiction to include more chapters. It was getting a lot of traction, and there was nothing to do but accept the massive support he was given. He was delighted to see the positive feedback from his readers.

Everything was back in its place—except for one thing. 

The comment.

He hasn’t even looked at it. 

Namely, because he can’t figure out how to respond. And he has to respond, because as much as he hates how they portray one of his best friends (and crush), the author is legendary in the website. The author is _the_ author, love it or hate it. Ignoring it would spark fury amongst In a Blue Moon’s readers, which it already has, as they made so obviously clear in his comment section. 

Besides, it’s been weighing on his mind for the past few days. Keith has to close this chapter in his fanfiction life, so he can continue writing stories without worry. He has to reply, or it will be like a dead weight chained to his ankle, and he’d keep getting bogged down until he’s drowning in nothing but the thought of the comment. 

So thinking up a reply, he posts it.

KosmicWolfling replied to read_ingpaladinfan: Thank you.

Leave it to the author as to how they should interpret it. It can be: _Thank you for sending me a new wave of readers._ Or: _Thank you for launching a whole army of your fans to comment hate messages._ Or, another one: _Thank you for writing your stupid fanfic that made me write this stupid fanfic in the first place just so I could correct the mistakes you made and defend my crush’s honour in the process._

Yeah. Leave it to them. Their own comment was ambiguous anyway.

 

 

**Rewrite the Stars by KosmicWolfling**

Chapter 6 

Keith found him, alone in the kitchen. A bowl was in Lance’s hands, waiting to be filled with breakfast. A finger was about to press the button which would dispense food goo in the empty dish.

“Hey,” Keith said, sleep still in his eyes as he strode over to him.

Lance turned to him, and Keith was so accustomed to the time and place that he lazily leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to Lance’s mouth.

When he drew back, Lance’s eyes were an alarmed blue.

It was like a slap to the face. All of his sleepiness was erased once he realized what he had done. Immediately, Keith took a step back, dread pooling at bottom of his stomach. Nausea seized him by the throat.

“Lance—I'm—“ he started to say, horror creeping up on him.

“Why did you do that?” Lance whispered. His voice was quiet, but to Keith, it was a shout.

“Look, Lance. I wasn’t thinking—I don’t know, I—“

“That’s exactly it, Keith,” Lance said, voice rising. “You weren’t thinking. I said I wanted time, I said I needed space—“

“I know you did, I just—“

“You say that but—but look at you! You’re kissing me, you hypocrite!“

“It was a mistake, all right!” Keith felt fury brewing inside him. “And what I said was true! If you don’t feel the same way, you don’t have to put us on hold like this. You can just tell me.” _You can just tell me you don’t love me, since you love somebody else_

Lance’s cerulean eyes were shining. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t—I can’t deal with you right now.” Lance turned away from him. His voice was trembling like his heart. Somehow, that broke a chord in him. It was no use.

“Lance—“ he started to say.

But Lance had already turned to leave. And as Keith continued to call out for him, his tears thickening in his throat, he also knew in his heart that Lance didn’t love him.

 

 

“Wait, wait, wait, so Keith—no, not _you_ Keith, but _story_ Keith—story Keith thinks that Lance likes Allura?” asks Pidge as Hunk looks up from the tablet after finishing reading Keith’s latest chapter—which, in his opinion, was his masterpiece. His work was cut out for him, since the readership had increased, and the bar set high, all thanks to the visibility read_ingapaladinfan had given him with that one comment. The influx of readers had put him under immense pressure, and not wanting to disappoint fans and haters alike, this chapter had to be perfect. 

Hence why it had taken more than a week to write whereas he could usually crank one out in a day. He had agonized over how he should leave hints on that crucial plot point; he didn’t want to be so obvious that a baby could pick it out, but also not too vague that a normal reader would have to squint to see it. It had to be just right. It had to be in the Goldilocks zone. 

So it was a delight to hear Hunk say, “Duh, Pidge. _Of course_ Keith thinks Lance has a crush on Allura. The hints are all there. It’s great isn’t it? Subtle but so telling.”

“Meh," Pidge says in answer.

Keith snorts, placing a card in the pile between him and Lance. They are seated on the floor, right by Pidge and Hunk, who are lounging on the couches, all of them winding down after a successful mission of saving an integral alien species' planet. Lance arches an eyebrow at him and he shakes his head amusedly in return. 

“Aw, Pidge, c’mon. This last chapter was the best!” Hunk declares. 

“Wow, Hunk, I didn't know you liked stories that drag on for eons.”

“It doesn’t drag!”

“It's been Keith pining for five chapters, so yes, it does drag.”

“It doesn’t.”

“Does so.” 

“Doesn’t!"

“Does so!"

“ _Doesn’t!_ "

" _Does_ —you know what? Go read In a Blue Moon then tell me,” she orders. 

“I’ve already read it," Hunk tells her. "And okay, sure, it’s fast paced, but they did Lance— _our_ Lance—so dirty.” 

Pidge makes a disapproving noise. “A minor thing. Get past that and you can see that the plot is superb. Unlike this one.”

“Hey, this has a great plot too!”

At this point, Keith sees that Lance has had enough, since he is closing his fan of cards into a small deck with a resounding snap. “Okay, guys, let’s calm down. It’s a _story_. It’s not _real_. No need to get so worked up over it. Right, Keith?”

“Yeah.” Keith clears his throat; his voice is rough. He prefers not to say anything when the topic of fanfiction is brought up for fear of revealing too much. “Yeah, it’s weird.”

“Exactly. It’s weird. And it’s weird hearing about this war between which fic is a better romance when Keith’s literally my best bud.”

“Wait,” says Hunk, looking hurt, “we aren’t best buds?”

Lance looks shocked. “Of course we are! I’m just saying Keith is _also_ a best bud. You don’t mind if I have another best bud, do you, Keith?”

Keith bites down a grin. “Not at all.”

“See, Hunk?” 

Hunk beams. 

“Okay, we’re getting out of topic here,” Pidge points out. Keith almost groans. Here he was thinking they had avoided this argument. He can already feel the onslaught of words Pidge is about to say, knowing she'll talk their ears right off their heads.

Lance sighs, as exasperated as he feels. “Can’t you just leave it alone, Pidge? I don’t care which fic is better.”

“But you’ve clearly read Moon and you know Rewrite is no where near its calibre.”

Lance snorts. “Yes, I’ve read Moon. But I don’t care about it. I'm not obsessed with it, like you are. Because by the way you keep repeating the topic, it’s like you _are_ the author of Moon. Are you hiding something from us, Pidge?”

“That’s ridiculous. Of course not. I’m just saying, Moon is—“ 

“Okay, stop it. I don’t care. Hunk, just continue reading.” 

Hunk looks sheepish. “That was the actually end of the chapter.” 

But Pidge clearly isn’t finished. “I guess we all know which fic Lance’s favourite is then,” she grumbles. 

“Did you really just call Rewrite my favourite fic? _Rewrite_?” Then Lance throws his head back and howls with laughter, so hard and long that he doubles over. He clutches at his stomach and collapses on the floor when another wave of giggles attack him. “That’s hilarious," Lance says when he is finished, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. "'Cause it isn’t. I just think it’s funny.” 

Lance's reaction stung. Keith almost feels like tearing up, because his story is something he takes pride in, a venture he has poured countless hours into because he simply likes doing it. But Lance can't be blamed; he doesn't know it's Keith who wrote it. Fanfiction is just something he can laugh at. To him, the story is just some irrelevant fan's fantasy, something from the realm of their imagination. He has no way of knowing that the author is sitting right in the very room. 

Keith shouldn't take offense. 

“Then we should read In a Blue Moon after this, if you think it’s so funny,” Pidge says in response. 

Lance laughs again and nods. “Sure, why not? More things to laugh at. But you shouldn’t expect a lot of compliments though, Pidge. Sorry to disappoint you.”

”For the last time, I am not the author! I am just a dedicated fan!”

“Uh huh. Yeah, right. That’s like saying Keith’s the author of Rewrite.”

Keith just about wants to scream. Lance winks back at him and it takes all of his willpower to grin back convincingly.

Pidge is still insisting. “Lance, for the last time, I am not—gah! You know what, it’s no use!”

“It’s okay, Pidge. I’ll go easy on the critiques,” Lance tells her smoothly. “Hunk, can you pull up In a Blue Moon?”

Hunk smiles sweetly. “My pleasure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long time no see! school’s been busy; i should've been working on my essay but instead i finished this. also it was my birthday, so i treated myself by writing fanfic. happy birthday to me!  
> as always, feedback is welcome!
> 
> (edit: june 22, 2019)  
> i rewrote this whole chapter because it felt so off. i was in a terrible rush when i wrote it back then in october, but now i've reworked it to my liking. i hope you guys can forgive me; the plot is still the same but i find that it flows better. i hope you find that too. happy reading! :)


	4. seized

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm back! sorry for the really long hiatus, but university was killing me and i had no time to write.
> 
> just a note: i've rewritten the 3rd chapter because i absolutely hated it when i posted it way back in october. although the premise of chapter 3 is the same, i like it better now, so if you want to read it, go for it! (and the 4th chapter will make more sense if you do decide to read it).
> 
> i will finish this fic this summer, make no mistake. i've made this promise and i _will_ keep it. no takebacksies.

**Rewrite the Stars by KosmicWolfling**

Chapter 6: Comments

allura_the_queen commented: can i say WOWEE i love this??? this new chapter is amazing. please write more!!

BluePlusRed commented: My poor baby Keith T_T Why are they still broken up??? (but ok I love how Lance saves the day in their mission it’s so cute I love him smmmmmmm)

Kitty_Cat_Lion10 commented: this is way better than In a Blue Moon by a long shot and this new chapter proves it. I loved how this fic showcased Lance’s smarts and i loved how Keith recognized that Lance is darn intelligent even though they’re broken up and Keith should have reason for downplaying Lance’s attributes. you made it so obvious that Lance isn’t a stupid guy unlike some other fics *cough* In a Blue Moon *cough*. I thank Bob everyday for introducing me to this fic cause it’s just *that* good. thanks for writing this. 

pidgreen771 commented: i o nly checkd this fic bc read_ingpaladinfan com mented on it but its actulaly rlly quiznking gOod???//

greenpaladinrocks commented: Hey I get that you don’t like Lance’s portrayal in Blue Moon where he rejects Keith’s love because of his insecurities even after Keith clearly said he loved him and that’s the whole reason why you rewrote read_ingpaladinfan’s fic but you’re literallly doing the same thing in this chapter?? Wtq?? Why are they broken up if it isn’t for that reason??? You’re such a hypocrite

          RedSenpai_64 replied to greenpaladinrocks: oh my bob ur so right......why would lance be rejecting him if he didnt think he was worth keiths love.......:(

          HunkaChunk replied to greenpaladinrocks: U are so Stupid Lance is clearly confused about his feelings for Allura Dont U pay capital A Attention to What Youre Reading

          RovingRovingGone replied to greenpaladinrocks: the breakup happened cuz lance also likes allura. she probably told him she likes him and now lance has to choose between them. read between the lines. 

                    black-has-my-back replied to RovingRovingGone: oh no is this gonna be a allura/lance fic? I. Did. Not. Come. For. This. 

                              RovingRovingGone replied to black-has-my-back: since this is tagged Keith/Lance I wouldnt doubt that the end game would be our favourite pairing. 

                              KosmicWolfling replied to black-has-my-back: Don’t worry. It’s a happy ending. :) 

 

 

_By the way you keep repeating the topic, it’s like you_ are _the author of Moon. Are you hiding something from us, Pidge?_

Ever since Lance’s comment, Keith has been observing Pidge more carefully.

He knows Lance had been joking, but as most jokes do, what he said contained a grain of truth. Actually, it was more like a really large grain, probably bigger than the size of an elephant, since her peculiar behaviour was so apparent and obvious that Keith is wondering why no one in the team has brought it up yet.

Did they not notice her being sneaky with her computer, turning away her screen at the exact moment when someone enters the room, even moving spots just so no one could chance a look? Didn’t they catch her staying in the kitchen late in the night while they refilled their midnight snack of food goo—as Keith has done countless times—and typing like an actual demon had possessed her? Didn’t they hear her talking about In a Blue Moon like her life depended on it, taking up every opportunity in the conversation to bring it up?

He can't keep quiet about this.

“Hey, Lance,” Keith finally says to quell the thoughts eating him again from the inside out. They’re hanging out together in the lounge in comfortable silence, him on his tablet and Lance making silly faces on his phone camera in SpaceChat. He hates it when he's suddenly attacked by the thoughts continually dogging him, because he can't just yell at the wall like he usually does when he's alone; that would be too weird. He actually has to tell someone, and currently, that someone is Lance.

“Yeah?”

“Do you really think Pidge is writing fanfiction?”

Lance freezes for a few seconds before he relaxes. It’s almost unnoticeable, the way he does. But with the large amount of time they’ve been spending with each other, Keith now knows his mannerisms like the back of his hand. And freezing usually means that the subject is one Lance never expected to be brought up and is uncomfortable with. Which is… strange, since Lance has talked about fanfiction countless times with other teammates. 

“Why do you say that?” Lance questions, slowly and carefully.

“Well, she's been really sneaky with her laptop lately. And remember when you were teasing her about bringing up that one fanfic all the time? The one she's so hellbent on talking about?”

“Oh, yeah, I remember. In a Blue Moon, right? Ha, well it’s pretty popular, so Pidge is obviously going to talk about it. Literally everyone’s read it.”

“I haven’t.”

He lies, and he doesn’t know why. Lance has a funny look on his face which Keith doesn’t really know how to interpret. 

"I don't read fanfiction at all," Keith continues. 

“That’s… good, then,” Lance says uncertainly.

“Yeah?” 

“It’s all silly stuff anyways.”

Keith gives a noncommittal “Mm.”

Lance is looking at him too carefully, like he’s waiting for Keith to say something. Keith has no clue what Lance is trying to say and what Lance expects him to say. He can't figure it out. So he proceeds. “Anyway, what do you think about my question?”

Before he answers, Lance thinks for a second. “I don’t know," he concludes. "She’s probably not. I think she’s just a very dedicated fan. They exist in those fanfic sites. Trust me.”

The answer disappoints him. He’d thought at least Lance would have noticed those tiny clues that Pidge has been carelessly scattering about like a trail of breadcrumbs leading straight to a sign that says ‘I am read_ingpaladinfan!’ on her head. Lance had been the most likely person to believe him. Heck, he's the one to point it out. But here he is backtracking on what he said, not following through on what he believes.

Keith heaves an inward sigh. He guesses he’ll just ignore what he thinks. 

 

 

Pidge did not make it easy ignoring what he thinks. 

“Yeah, yeah, Pidge, we know already,” Lance says, rolling his eyes as Pidge continues waxing poetic about the new chapter of In a Blue Moon a week after Keith had brought up his suspicions to Lance. “It’s not like you’ve said it twenty times before,” Lance points out, frowning in annoyance. 

It was infuriating. Keith had been doing his best to coexist with her, to not think about his stupid speculations whenever she was around, but she was making it so difficult. Case in point: right now, where Pidge unceremoniously plopped herself in between them on the couch, interrupting his and Lance’s cordial chat, and then proceeded to proclaim that In a Blue Moon had another chapter published. Talk about being subtle. 

“But this one chapter—the plot is just out of this world! The twists and turns, the cliffhanger… I screamed at my computer, Lance. I screamed. You have to get back into reading it again, I swear!”

“In your dreams, Pidgey. I’m never touching that website again.”

By this time, Keith has reached the end of his rope, patience worn thin. “Pidge, can’t you just let me and Lance hang out in peace without you hounding us about this stupid fanfic?" he says irritably. "Can’t you just tell Hunk?”

“Nope," she answers briskly. "Hunk hates that fic. And anyways,” she adds, her eyes glittering, “it's not like you can stop me.”

Keith arches an eyebrow. “Why not?” 

“Because I have some very incriminating evidence of you caught on video that can be used as blackmail.”

"Oh, she’s good,” Lance says, impressed. 

“What do you mean?” Keith asks, genuinely confused. 

She cackles evilly. “Ah, well, if you think back to this morning, you know, in the showers…”

Keith feels hot. “You didn’t.”

“Oh, I did.” 

“Delete it." 

“You know I won’t do that.” 

“Delete it, Pidge. I swear if you don't, I'll—” 

“What were you doing?” Lance asks.

Keith's so gobsmacked that he even asked that Pidge is already ahead in revealing the answer.

“He was singing," Pidge tells him and Keith wants a Galra ship to immediately come crashing into his exact spot so he can disappear off into space. 

However, Lance doesn't even react. He is only frowning. "Everyone sings in the shower," he says.

"Ah, but it's _what_ he was singing that was really embarrassing. See, it was a full on concert of—“ Before she can say anything, Keith launches himself at her, covering her mouth and tackling her to the ground. Pidge struggles underneath him, and he should feel a tiny bit guilty but he doesn't. He doesn't even budge. Lance only looks on, amused. 

“I won’t make fun of you, Keithy boy,” he promises. 

“That’s what you say, Lance,” Keith replies. Suddenly, Lance winks at him and he is suddenly _burning_. Pidge mumbles something. 

“Wait, what’s that, Pidge?” Keith asks, hand still over her mouth. 

She gives him a glare that could possibly burn a hole through paper. 

He takes off his hand. 

“Okay, I won’t say anything," she says, "since I'm such a nice person.”

Keith gives a sigh of relief. 

“But know that Keith had some dance moves in there.”

Keith bonks her head. 

 

 

**In a Blue Moon by read_ingpaladinfan**

Chapter 30: Confession

Lance kept trying to see if something betrayed Keith’s face; a flicker maybe, of something out of the ordinary that he could pinpoint to. Some evidence that showed that Keith did and meant what he said. 

He thought back. 

_“I love you,” Keith had said to him after dinner, when it had just been the two of them in the kitchen._

_Stunned silence. Lance didn’t know what to say_

_“Look," Keith said, looking to the ground, not staring straight into his eyes, "remember that—that incident back in the hangar? When you did that whole almost sacrificing yourself? I… I kissed you, right. I kissed you. And I didn’t talk about it afterward. With you. And I know it wasn’t fair but I was—I was confused about my feelings. That’s why I left immediately. Because when you went for that Galra fighter jet, I couldn’t wrap my head around the possibility of you gone. Do you know how devastating that would be for me? For all of us? So that's why… that's why I kissed you. Back then, I didn’t know why I did do that, and that’s why I acted like nothing happened right after. But then… I felt guilty. So as a weird way of apologizing, I began hanging out with you a lot. And that’s when I realized my feelings. I was trying to leave you hints, I was trying to be obvious, but I felt like you didn't want think about it either. Maybe it’s my fault for ignoring what happened in the first place. But I’m here now and I want to say it straight, because I think you deserve that. So, here I am, telling you: Lance McClain, I'm in love with you.”_

_“Keith, I…”_

Lance grimaced. He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t deserve Keith. It didn't make sense why Keith would even bother saying those things. There was no way he’d say them to Lance.

Never mind that Lance chose not to see the melancholic look Keith had whenever his gaze passed over Lance. That was confirmation that what happened did happen. And Lance wouldn’t pursue that. Couldn’t. He’d rather let himself stew in his own thoughts.

Because that's what he did best.

 

 

Keith has to do something. He has to catch Pidge in the act somehow, because if he doesn’t, he’s just going to be stuck in a loop, having the same conversation on repeat inside his head. A conversation in which he’s convincing himself then backtracking and doubting himself and then returning to persuasion again about the clues that are blatantly in front of his eyes. 

See, Keith’s been observing Pidge. He knows that is exactly what he promised himself he won’t do, but he can’t really control his subconscious. If something is bothering him, he has to take action. He can’t simply sit back and do nothing. It's actually amazing he's lasted this long without doing anything.

This is what he has seen: she’s been more protective of her computer. The piece of machinery doesn’t leave her side for more than a second; it's like it has turned into her shield, always within an arm’s reach, ready to be snatched up when anyone is so much as in its one meter radius. 

If someone asks to use it—usually Lance—they have to be under her constant supervision. Pidge would watch them from behind like a weird version of a guardian angel, taking into account which sites they'd visit, what files they'd open, which applications they'd use. It would feel so obtrusive and there wouldn’t be a dash of privacy that no one dares to borrow her laptop anymore. They'd have better luck asking Hunk, who has no qualms giving his laptop to anybody who'd ask. Pidge's is now simply off limits.

The most damning clue of all is the fast typing, so fast that it sounds like Allura’s mice are chattering amongst themselves. Sometimes Keith thinks they are the mice, and he'd turn to find it be Pidge, her hands a blur on the keyboard. Accompanying her are groans of frustration, rubbing of faces, mussing of hair: all telling signs. And her speedy typing usually occurs in the the wee hours, as Keith had witnessed several times when retrieving a midnight snack from the kitchen. It's so evident that she is writing, because he’s currently doing the same thing too, but in the privacy of his room. 

He’s brought it up with Lance again, but Lance had dismissed it as her writing code, and anyway, it wasn't really out of the ordinary since she’d been like that for the past month. But Keith had checked when In a Blue Moon had been published, and sure enough, the first chapter had also been released in the past month. A perfect fit.

There are too many things falling in place to call it a coincidence. 

He has to get on that computer. Something is on it, something important. He doesn’t know what, but he knows it’s there, existing. If only he can steal it for a few minutes, then he can find out and he can confirm what he’s known along and prove his stupid thoughts right. He'll prove them all right. He'll show her—

_“Woah!”_

Solid, sure arms catch Keith's shoulders in time to stop him from toppling over. Had they not caught him, he’d surely have rammed smack dab into them. Steadying, Keith looks up to find himself staring into blue, blue eyes. 

“Watch where you’re going!” Lance exclaims, his eyes wide. “You could’ve hurt yourself!”

Heart thudding incessantly in his chest, he pushes Lance away, not ungently, and clears his throat.

“Sorry,” Keith murmurs, immediately dusting himself off so he won’t meet Lance’s eyes. Feeling Lance’s breath on his face, the warmth of his fingers through his shirt and his worried gaze, Keith feels embarrassed. If he hadn’t stood back, he's sure he would’ve embarrassed himself even more. 

“Hey, it’s okay. Just watch where you’re going next time, since you could've been hurt real bad. Then we’d have no team leader!” 

Keith finishes dusting himself off to give Lance a pointed look. 

“A head bump won't kill me.” 

“Mm, you’re right. That mullet of yours is like a helmet.” Lance’s lips twitch. Keith rolls his eyes. 

“Very creative.” 

Lance throws his hands back. “I’m just telling the truth!”

Keith rolls his eyes again, and excuses himself to resume his walk. But before he can turn around, Lance grabs his shoulder.

“Wait. Keith.” His hand is a familiar, warm weight. Thankfully, he quickly withdraws it, before Keith can combust. 

“Can I walk with you?” Lance asks. 

Keith arches an eyebrow. “Weren’t you headed in the other direction?”

“Ah, well,” Lance says, grinning and rubbing the back of his neck, “I don’t really need to go there anymore, now that you’re here.”

“Oh.” He feels warm. “Well, I’m just walking around. Clearing my thoughts. No destination, Lance.”

“That’s fine by me. I won’t talk if you don't want me to.”

Keith doesn’t give any indication that he doesn't want Lance there, so Lance falls into step beside him to continue their stroll in amicable silence. They’ve been walking for quite a while now, Keith still pondering a way to get onto Pidge’s computer, when an amazing idea alights in his mind, making him stop in his tracks. 

“Keith?” Lance halts as well and looks back at him in puzzlement. 

“Lance,” he answers. He can feel the beginnings of a grin forming on his face, excitement buzzing in his chest. “Do you remember that favour you owe me?”

Lance looks to his side in thought and purses his lips. “Maybe it’s ringing some bells…”

“Lance.”

Lance throws his hands up. “Okay, fine! The favour I owe you because I ignored you for a straight week! I wasn’t even being serious when I agreed to it.”

Keith crosses his arms and frowns. “Well, I was. And I need it now.”

“Aw, come on, that’s not fair,” Lance whines. “How do I keep up my end of the bargain if I didn’t even know there was a bargain to begin with?”

Keith stares. He stares and stares, so blankly that as Lance's face fights Keith’s inscrutable expression, it cracks only a few seconds after battling it. Slumping, Lance emits an extremely exasperated sigh, like his mother is forcing him to do an unavoidable chore. Which isn’t that far off. 

“Fine. Fine! As long as it’s not too difficult,” Lance huffs.

Keith pauses before he says anything. The task he is asking him is on the tricky side and one that needs to buy him the right amount of time. But he knows Lance has a good chance, especially with Pidge. She has a soft spot for him, she's admitted that to Keith before. However he'll do it, Keith has faith in him. It can work. 

So taking a deep breath, Keith drops the bombshell. “I need to get on Pidge’s computer.”

To his surprise, Lance barks out a good-natured laugh. “Quiznak, Keith, why didn’t you say so!” He grins. “This is gonna be a piece of cake, just watch. It’s so easy I would have done it without the favour, but hey, you already used it so no taksies backsies.” He pauses suddenly, because realization dawns on his face, his mouth forming into a comical O. “Oh. Ohhh. I get it now. I get it.”

Perplexed, Keith asks, "What did you get?" 

"Why you need to get on her laptop!"

“Oh, yeah?”

“Because you want to delete that video!”

The conclusion is so far off the mark that Keith exclaims an enthusiastic “Yes!” before he can think of what he has blurted out. He can’t believe Lance has fabricated his cover for him. “Yes,” he repeats, more calmly. “It’s because of that.” 

“Well, what are you waiting for? Tell me the plan so we can do it now!”

Keith does so, eagerly, while Lance nods earnestly like a soldier assuring his captain that he understands his battle strategy. When Keith finishes, Lance remarks, with a teasing, condescending air, “Simple, but I like it. Your skills as a team leader are being put to good use to remove this video of you singing in the shower.”

Keith punches his arm. Ungently. 

“Ow! That hurt.”

“Serves you right,” Keith murmurs under his breath. “Okay, back to business. I said that I needed her password. You know it, right?”

Rubbing his arm, Lance juts out his lower lip. “Duh. I’ve logged onto that thing so many times that I practically have the characters burned into my brain.”

“Okay, then hotshot. Since you’re so confident, can you please write it down on my hand?” he requests, brandishing a pen from his pocket and poking Lance’s chest with it. Lance looks down at the writing instrument then back at him. A smirk is perched on his lips.

“Ah, well. I will.”

Keith pokes his chest harder. “Of course, you will. We had a deal.”

Lance’s smirk deepens. “I will if you tell me what you were singing in the showers first.”

The arm holding the pen drops to his side. He narrows his eyes. Steels his jaw. So that's how he was going to play this, huh? Crossing his arms, Keith sets his mouth into a tight line.

“We had a deal,” he repeats. 

“There was nothing about passwords,” Lance points out. “And hey, I just want a hint. A tiny, little hint. Isn’t that fair?”

Lance’s eyes are full of malice and Keith hasn’t hated anyone more. This was the ultimate humiliation, the embarrassment to end all other embarrassments. Keith can’t tell his crush out of all people. He doesn’t know how he can handle it, knowing Lance has this information. He’ll take the secret with him to the grave if he has the choice.

But he has none. And there is no way in the entire universe he’s going to jeopardize his perfect plan just so he can save himself from shame.

“I hate you so much right now,” he tells Lance fiercely. 

“Aw, Keith. Love you too.”

Keith sticks out his tongue. 

“Watch yourself,” Lance counters. "I’m your only hope of deleting that video. And look—“ Lance taps his watch. “—Pidge has her break in a few minutes. Time’s a-ticking, Keith. Better tell me or risk your only chance of getting on her laptop.”

Keith is stalling he knows. He’s only buying time before he has to do the inevitable, but they are precious few seconds nonetheless. 

Finally he replies, monotone, “Emo songs.” Lance's lips twitch. "And you’re _not_ getting anything beyond that,” he adds when Lance looks like he’s about to say something. 

“I wasn’t going to,” Lance responds, his eyes twinkling. Keith wants to punch him, crush aside. There is no doubt that his face is as red as his Paladin armour.

“God, can you just write the password on my hand?” 

“Roger that, team leader,” Lance responds, biting his lip to keep down his laughter. Keith perfectly aims the pen at his face, but Lance catches it before it hits him. Keith feels sorry that that Lance didn’t get smacked by it.

“How are you even going to convince her to leave her computer?” Keith asks when Lance finishes writing down the string of nonsensical letters, numbers and symbols on his hand with surprising efficiency. Keith's skin is tingling where Lance had placed his fingers, and Keith has no doubt he is as red as a tomato right now.

“Ah, leave that,” says Lance, giving Keith a wink that makes him burn even brighter, “to the experts.”

 

 

“Pidge, you have to see this…”

“Lance, I need to go back and do my work. Get out of the way.”

“Pretty please? I won’t move until you say yes.”

“I’m serious, Lance. I need to get back in the kitchen. I’m doing something.”

“Aw, come on, Pidge. We barely hang out anymore. At least give me a few minutes. Just a tiny bit of your time, Pidge.” He can almost hear Lance pouting.

A snort. “We literally hung out yesterday. Guilt tripping me will get you no where.”

There’s a long, convincingly putout sigh that Keith almost has the urge to give in, even though he’s not Lance’s target. “Then I guess I’ll just have to kill the mob boss by myself in Level 36…”

There’s a silence. And that's when Keith knows Lance has it in the bag. Because next comes an astonished: “No way.”

“Yes way.” Lance is smirking, for sure.

“You did not.”

“Oh, I did. And if you want to know if I’m lying or not, you can always come and see.” Teasing lilt. 

“I…” Pidge sounds like she’s at a crossroads. What she must have been doing was pretty important. Or has a deadline, Keith tells himself. The next update for In a Blue Moon is due in a few days and is waiting to be published to great anticipation, so Keith can imagine the pressure.

“I guess… I guess my code can wait…” Pidge finally concedes, and Keith has to restrain himself from doing a fist pump.

“Well, c’mon then!” Lance urges.

“Wait!” Pidge suddenly cries. Keith bites his lip from growling in frustration. Pidge is so, so close to taking the bait; she only needs that little nudge. “I need to get my laptop—“

“Who cares about your laptop! It’s going to be there when you come back for it.”

“But I need it—“

“To what? Cheat on fighting the mob boss? Nuh uh! No way are you beating it because of a mod!”

“Of course I won’t use it to cheat, Lance, I just need—" Lance makes a disapproving noise. "Ugh! Fine! I'll go!”

Their footsteps and their voices become fainter and fainter, the sounds of their chatter fading gradually. When Keith is sure he can’t hear them anymore, he slips out of his hiding place, a small nook just steps away from the kitchen. Legs shaking, he enters the kitchen doors, excitement, dread and anticipation all rolled into one thrumming underneath his skin.

The laptop, as promised, is there, looking the same as it always does. The screen is black. He immediately rushes towards it, moving the mouse pad to rouse it from sleep. The lock screen comes up. Glancing down at his hand, he checks Lance's scribbles; the writing is a bit smudged because of his sweaty palms, but the print is legible. With hands shaking, he punches in the password, as quickly and methodically as he can, not wanting to waste time. He can't afford to lose any, not when it's so limited. He hits 'Enter'. 

WRONG PASSWORD.

Quickly, he reenters the passcode. He does so slowler this time, to avoid any mistakes he might have made. He’s just finished and hit ‘Enter’ when the words flash again. 

WRONG PASSWORD.

Keith breathes out to steady the frantic beat of his heart. He’s kind of freaking out. No, not kind of. But really freaking out. 

Did Lance give him the wrong key? Did Lance push him straight into a trap? These were good possibilities, but unlikely. He and Lance had a deal, and Lance always followed through on his promises, no matter what. There is no way that he would do that to Keith; he isn’t that kind of person and Keith's never witnessed him going back on his word. Lance knows that accomplishing this task is important to Keith, however childish his reason is. So he can’t be blamed. There has to be something wrong on Keith’s end instead. 

Looking down at his hand again, he scans the gibberish of characters, tracing every line and curve with his eyes, making sure each one is what they are.

There. The ‘j’ was supposed to be an ‘i’. 

Rectifying his mistake, he enters the password again for the third time, so carefully that he feels dizzy looking back and again between his hand and the keyboard. Typing in the final letter, he hits 'Enter', and with bated breath, hopes it is for the last time in his life.

The screen opens to the home page. 

He sighs in relief even though that had only been Stage 1. Now he's in Stage 2, the more difficult job. A lot of his precious time had already been lost just by him tackling the password fiasco, yet he knows Stage 2 is going to be even more time consuming when he sees the desktop. 

On it are folders upon folders set in neat columns, all methodically labelled and colour coded that it looks like a librarian had arranged all of it into order. There is no way he can look through each one, but at least he knows which folders to avoid. He's lucky in that retrospect, but that still leaves him… with a lot of folders still. Which begs the question: where does he start?

A folder named 'Videos' catches his eye. He's lied to Lance about what he's doing before, but he's not lying now as he clicks on it. His video is the very first one that comes up. He knows it is, since the thumbnail is of the door of the bathroom he uses on the daily. Just to make sure, he clicks on the file. 

The video plays automatically, the sound of running water as he showers blaring out of the laptop's speakers. It is loud, but even louder still is his voice holding a really long note. Out of tune.

He grimaces as he pauses it. He doesn’t blink when he drags the file to the trash and empties it.

Now Pidge can't use it against him. Thank God.

Next order of business: the fanfiction. He takes a moment to think and settles for the easiest and the most obvious method: he types the file type of word documents into the search bar, yielding a barrage of them in the results. There aren't as many as he anticipated, but there is still enough to make him lose his cherished minutes. He goes through each one, scanning them all, frustration compounding as he finds that nothing is reminiscent of a written story. They’re just notes of code and instructions and shopping lists of what hardware Pidge is planning to buy in the next planet they'd stop on. Nothing is familiar at all.

He’s ready to yell in frustration. He is so close, so close that it’s just out of his grasp. He can almost feel the triumph, the ‘Ah hah!’ moment. The frustrating part is that he can't find that missing piece that can tie this all up. The last jigsaw puzzle is missing, and unfortunately, it might stay lost if Keith can't think of anymore ideas. And currently, he has none, nothing that can even hint towards some evidence of authorship. 

Accepting defeat, he reaching to close the laptop shut when he remembers. It is the most obvious thing. Something he should've thought of long ago. The _website_. The stupid website. Where else should he check but the one glaring place that could confirm everything? He wants to smack himself over the head. It should have been the first thing he did!

It’s like he’s on automatic when he opens the web browser, typing in the familiar domain name, waiting for the site to load on the home page. His hands are sweating profusely as he eyes the loading circle. It loops slowly like a slug chasing its trail, and if this is what agony feels like, he's feeling it now. He just wants to get this over with. It doesn't even matter if he's right or not. He just wants to know.

Finally, it loads. The familiar logo of Voltron Fiction triggers a certain nostalgia in him, like he’s back in his room, writing his fanfic in the quiet hours of the night, slurping his food goo contentedly as he edits, the glow of his tablet bathing his face in light. It’s so homely that he almost ignores the words on the top right corner, but out of habit, his eyes find it, and his world tilts.

You are logged in as read_ingpaladinfan. 

Keith wants to scream.

 

 

He knows it’s Pidge that enters the kitchen because she's immediately greets him with a smug, "Oh, hey Keith," even when he doesn't look. He knows she’s grinning, maybe feeling like she one upped Keith. Clueless to what he’s discovered. ”Did you delete the video?” she asks coolly. 

His eyes don't leave the screen. They haven't left it for a while actually, preferring to continue staring so he can maintain the state of blankness he is in. But now that Pidge is here, he can feel that blankness fading, giving way to something else. Breaking his gaze away from the laptop, he wordlessly turns the machinery around and looks up to be greeted by none other than Pidge's smirking face. 

Which is wiped off immediately when she sees what’s on it, face draining of colour.

“Keith,” she says slowly, “it’s not what it looks like.”

The blankness is fast dissipating and a rush of fury sears through him like a wildfire. He doesn’t even know why he’s so angry.

“I swear on my dog, it’s not me,” she says like she’s appeasing a wild animal.

And maybe Keith has turned into a wild animal, rabid and frothing at the mouth. Because what she says somehow break something in him that’s been held taut since he discovered, and like a whip, he snaps.

“I can’t believe you!" he yells, so loud that she takes an automatic step back. "I just _cannot_ believe you! There is just—I can't!”

“I can explain—“ Pidge starts but Keith just bulldozes on.

“Because what you’re doing is so—inappropriate! Me and Lance? Together? We’re—we're teammates, Pidge! We’re best friends! Is this a sick fantasy of yours? Do you actually want us to make out and—and—no, actually, don’t even answer that. Because that’s not the worst part. The worst part is you wrote Lance like he’s useless! Like he’s a nobody! Do you know what effect that could have on him when you know he’s done so much for the team? When he’s the reason why I’ve accepted my role as a leader? When he’s pretty much why the team hasn’t fallen apart when Shiro was gone? How could you?!”

“Keith, I’m—“

“It all makes sense now. Why you liked the fic, why you were always on your laptop, why you kept talking about it, _praising_ it—Lance was right! You’re the author! It’s been you all along!”

”I’m not—“

”And you know what else I’ve realized? That stupid comment! That stupid comment you posted on my fic that made me go so crazy that I couldn’t even have a moment’s peace from your angry fans! ‘You write like someone I know’—’…like someone I know’…it’s because you do know me! You’ve always known it was me, ever since! And you could’ve just told me, Pidge! I would have explained—I would have explained everything! I could've told you what's been going on and we wouldn't have been in this mess in the first place!”

He is breathing hard when he finishes. Everything had just come tumbling out of his lips, all of the things unsaid that had been stewing in his head for the past few days, all of hints that he had pieced together when his suspicions about Pidge were molding as easily as putty. And with this confirmation, it feels good, as if a physical weight had lifted from chest, ridding him from the burden of keeping it all a secret. With everything exposed, he can scream to his heart's content that he's been right all along and no one can tell him he is wrong. No one. 

He finally looks at Pidge. Her eyes are wide, wonder and alarm mixed in them, like she's just seen a unicorn. Beneath his fury, he feels a dash of confusion mixing itself in.

“You’re… the author of Rewrite?” she asks, astounded. This is not the reaction he was hoping for. Remorse he was prepared for. But not astonishment. 

“Yes. I am. Of course. You out of all people should know that.”

“You’re KosmicWolfling,” she says in a faraway voice. She looks dazed.

Irritation itches at him. “Like I said, you would know. You left that comment.” 

”I didn’t put that comment,” she tells him, shaking her head. “I wasn’t lying when I said I'm not the writer.”

Her words only infuriate him more. He can’t believe she’s still saying this. Still denying it, as if he’s stupid. He jabs at the computer screen. “What is _this_ then?”

She blinks. “That? Oh, well, I’m logged in as them because, well…” She twiddles her fingers. Blinks again. “I’m their beta.”

“ _'Their—'_ “ he begins to scoff, but then the words set in. Something heavy drops in his stomach. “What?”

Pidge is unsure if she should continue. But she does so, treading carefully and tentatively, ”Well, you know, it’s the person who edits—“

“I know what a beta is,” he snaps as he closes the laptop shut. He tries to swallow down his horror but fails. He’s made a terrible mistake. This is not the way it's supposed to go, not at all. He buries his face in his hands. “Oh no. _No_. No no no.”

“Well, that's just mean,” Pidge says, frowning, “What's wrong with being a beta?” 

Passing his hands over his eyes, he exclaims, “Everything, Pidge! You weren't supposed to be one! You were supposed to be read_ingpaladinfan!”

"Oh, I wish I was that genius. But, like I've said, they aren’t me.”

He grimaces. Then drops his hands from his face. “How did you even become one? How did that even happen?”

“I was one of their first readers,” Pidge explains. “I read them when they first came out, when they were still unknown. And I liked them, so I commented a lot, which is pretty standard if you ask me.” She shrugs. "Then, one day, out of the blue, they sent me a private message. Asked if I wanted to be their beta. Simple as that. Of course I said yes, who wouldn't? That's when they sent me their username and password to edit it. Said they don't use any other website so it had to be done this way.”

Keith snorts. “I find that hard to believe.” 

Pidge nods, affirming. “Me too, but I couldn’t make this up. I can even show you our conversation. They have nothing else, no other social media handles. Or if they do, it’s under a different name. They said preserving their identity is really important to them. They want to keep it under wraps. They’re especially particular about that. And, well, they're doing a really good job about it."

Keith sighs. “So what you're saying is, they're still a ghost.”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Pidge agrees. “I guess we’ll never ever find out, which is a bit of a bummer. I'd really like to know one day, but what can I do?” She sighs as well. Then a toothy grin flashes on her face. “But, hey, you all make up for it 'cause now I know who Rewrite’s author is!”

Keith wants to bury his face again. ”I swear, Pidge…”

"Look, I get it. We all get a little emotional sometimes. Writing can be a good activity to get things off your chest. Like having a huge crush on Lance, for instance.“

An unnatural, high pitched laugh escapes his lips. “Did you just say I have a crush on Lance? A _crush_ , Pidge?” He laughs again, the sound foreign to his ears. “I don't have a—a crush on him—”

"Lie all you want, but you're not fooling either of us.” Pidge is smirking.

“I don’t, okay—I’ve never—“

Pidge is still smirking in that knowing way of hers.

“Okay! Fine!” he concedes, throwing his hands up. “I do like him! I like him a lot! But that wasn't why I wrote the fic ." He crosses his arms. "I rewrote it because I didn't like the way he was depicted. And who's to blame for that?" He stares at her. 

She looks confused. "The author?" 

"N—okay yes, but also you, Pidge! You allowed all of that to happen without doing anything!" 

Pidge scowls. A serious expression settles on her face, stern as a mother's. "That isn't fair. You can't blame me for the author's viewpoint. That’s why they’re called the author: they're in charge of what they write. They have their own opinion. I'm only a beta. I check their work, and that's it. Anyways, it would be really suspicious if I suddenly became the Lance encyclopedia, knower of all things McClain. I didn't exactly tell them I'm a member of Voltron.” 

“You could've at least nudged them in the right direction!” Keith insists.

Pidge blinks. “Do you really think I’d compromise my identity through fanfiction, Keith?” she asks. “No way. Look at how well this turned out."

Keith feels petulant and wants to keep harping her for what she’s allowed to happen, but he knows she won’t budge, no matter what. So recrossing his arms, he reluctantly admits to her a, "Fine, you’re right," and Pidge only gives him a face that says that she already knows. 

They are silent. They look at each other, not knowing what to do or say next. They are caught in an uncomfortable impasse, making the room stuffy with the strained air. "So what do we do now?" he asks so they won't dwell in the state of awkward.

"I don't know." Pidge taps her chin in thought. "Maybe… maybe I can tell the whole team you're one of Voltron Fiction's most famous authors?"

“I—“ He falters. He did not see that turn coming. There isn't even anything he can say to defend himself. _She's been betaing In a Blue Moon since its existence_? Those words are no match for hers, the threat not as heavy. Because if the team found out about his secret, the consequences he'll face will be worse. _Way_ worse. He'll have to confront his feelings, confess everything to Lance. Probably undergo an intervention staged by Shiro. Maybe he'll have to step down piloting Black, since who would want a leader who keeps his feelings bottled up inside by writing fanfic?

Pidge is too smart.

Weirdly enough, Pidge is smiling. He hardens his jaw, steeling himself for what is to come. “But I'm not gonna do that," she is saying. The words don't register in his mind, sinking slowly into him like quicksand. "See, this is way too good to spoil."

He blinks. He takes a moment to assess what he heard. He squints at Pidge. 

"What you've got instead," she continues on as he tries to process the words, his brain working sluggishly while all this information is being thrown at him, "is a new ally." She grins wider, showing teeth. There is no way this is what she is saying. The confusion he feels is paramount.

_“What?”_ he all but shrieks. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can anyone spot Pidge's comment on Keith's fic? tell me if you did. she really loves robots.
> 
> feedback is always welcome!


End file.
